You may recall from my previous post of the "16th. March 2014: A.O.W.C. - The Anastatoo Hover at Crystal Bay", that it was out of season for spotting the famous for Mola-Mola, so we settled for Peak Performance Buoyancy tests. Just heard that my dive buddy returned there and took these wonderful photographs:
Friday, 24 October 2014
Saturday, 26 April 2014
Menjangan, the secret of Secret Bay
The first day’s diving was a shore dive just off Gillimanuk at a place called Secret Bay, which is just behind the ferry bus terminus. As you drive to the site, there is a large statue of Buddha ahead of you.
The fact that the water below the surface was as calm as it was on the surface, with almost no current, can be a double edged sword. This site is so calm that the backwash that enters into the bay from East Java across the Bali Strait does not wash back out to sea as the bay is protected by the mangroves of Teluk Lampur that surround it. Sediment that is churned up by the Ketapang - Gilimanuk ferries enter the bay and take a while to settle. Even when it does, algae thrives due to the calmness water. As a result, visibility is usually poor, especially during the rainy season. With that much sediment suspended in the water, Secret Bay is also one of Bali’s best muck-dive sites.
We went right down to the business of diving but in a far more relaxed manner than say, at Tulamben because there were no waves to speak of and certainly no cobblestones to trip and stumble over. We waded in about 5 meters off the beach, turned right and went gently down to a shallow depth of 8 meters almost effortlessly. It is at this point that the real secret of this bay became apparent. The marine life was surprisingly abundant despite its proximity to human activity on the surface.
Secret Bay (Dive 13: 8o09'51"S 114o26'20"E):
We surfaced at 10:40. After the usual Surface Interval, we were back in the water at 11:56. Instead of turning right however, we turned left towards the pier:
The fact that the water below the surface was as calm as it was on the surface, with almost no current, can be a double edged sword. This site is so calm that the backwash that enters into the bay from East Java across the Bali Strait does not wash back out to sea as the bay is protected by the mangroves of Teluk Lampur that surround it. Sediment that is churned up by the Ketapang - Gilimanuk ferries enter the bay and take a while to settle. Even when it does, algae thrives due to the calmness water. As a result, visibility is usually poor, especially during the rainy season. With that much sediment suspended in the water, Secret Bay is also one of Bali’s best muck-dive sites.
We went right down to the business of diving but in a far more relaxed manner than say, at Tulamben because there were no waves to speak of and certainly no cobblestones to trip and stumble over. We waded in about 5 meters off the beach, turned right and went gently down to a shallow depth of 8 meters almost effortlessly. It is at this point that the real secret of this bay became apparent. The marine life was surprisingly abundant despite its proximity to human activity on the surface.
Secret Bay (Dive 12: 8o09'52"S 114o26'20"E):
On the first dive we were privileged to see:Secret Bay (Dive 13: 8o09'51"S 114o26'20"E):
We surfaced at 10:40. After the usual Surface Interval, we were back in the water at 11:56. Instead of turning right however, we turned left towards the pier:
I am Pegasus
At the end of our second dive, as we emerged from the water at a point where our equipment seemed to weigh more than we did, our instructor stopped us in our tracks to look at a creature no bigger than our little finger:
So rare in fact is the Pegasus Sea-Moth that not only is it listed by the IUCN as vulnerable but a diver could go through a lifetime of muck-diving and never see one of these little critters. Yet there it was, no more than a meter away from me and in not much more than half a meter of water.
What's that I hear you say - homework!
Although there is no denying that PADI is all about recreational diving, conservation of the sites that they dive at is of more than just a passing interest. If you are interested in a deeper understanding of marine life around Menjangan and more importantly, the communities that support and conserve it, I thoroughly recommend the following reading:- Report on Menjangan Island’s Coral Reef: A Bali Barat National Park Marine Protected Area, Orla Doherty, Carol Milner, Phillip Dustan, Stuart Campbell, Shinta Pardede, Tasrif Kartawijaya and Abigail Alling, Atoll Research Bulletin No. 599, 19 November 2013.
- SULU SULAWESI MARINE ECOREGION, Judy Oglethorpe, Global Conservation Program—World Wildlife Fund, October 1, 1999 - September 30, 2004.
- Conserving Reefs through Community Ownership and Enterprise, Simon Lyster, Darwin Initiative Project Annual Report # 2 - Revised, 1 April 2006 - 31 March 2007.
Friday, 25 April 2014
25th. April 2014: The couples at Pengambengan
The day finally arrived. My buddy and I drove leisurely towards Menjangan. If anyone has ever been on the Denpasar to Gillimanuk road, they will know how challenging the traffic is. With the sea on your left for most of the way though, there is some respite from the chaos of every day trade plying on roads that totally unfit for the purpose for which they are now being used. Life however must go on.
When we passed Negara we headed off the main road to Pengambengan, which is a little fishing village tucked away from the rest of the world. When we entered the port, the fishing boats were all at anchor as the tide was out:
We noticed that the boats were anchored in pairs
On enquiry we were told that the boats are considered to be a couple, male and female. When they head out to the fishing grounds around Ulu Watu, they work the net, strung between them as a couple. One will take the net out at right angles to the other and then when fully stretched will come back in a wide arc to close the net.
When we arrived, a truckload of ice was being loaded into a small boat to be taken out to the fishing boat:
After about an hour or so, the crew were arriving in groups. Each group collected at a particular point on the warf and were taken out to their boat by a smaller tender boat:
We walked to the end of one arm of the warf where there were a group of men collected around their motorcycles. We discovered that these men were not crew, they were the long arm of the owners of the fishing boats and were there to ensure that the crew got onto the boat.
With all the boat crew aboard the boats that were going to sail out all that was required was the boat captain. There was a delay in their arrival because the crew were advised that the schools of fish were nearer to the port than Ulu Watu and therefore it would not be necessary to leave early.
So the crew remained on board and occupied their time as best they could. The crew of the boat closest to us did just that by playing music as loud as they could but listening to it in silence. It was somewhat reminiscent of John Bertram boat on the America’s cup challenge, going out to do battle to the sound of “Land of Under”.
The appropriate time to start seemed to approach with the rising tide. Quite by surprise, twelve outrigger engines that flanked the sides of a pair of boats like cannon, roared into life:
Almost instantaneously the engines of all the other boats with crew on board did the same. Amid the cacophony of revving engines, exhaust fumes, blaring music, captains orders, a sense of order and discipline seemed to pervade the harbour. Each pair of boats patiently waited its turn to head down the channel to the open water:
Within a few minutes, all the boats that were going out for the night had left and were now specks on the horizon, leaving behind the empty silence of the harbour
We then watched in silence as a Balinese woman came to place an offering at a pillar where her husband had fallen and injured himself. She released a small chicken that wandered about somewhat surprised as to its newly found freedom, only to be caught again further down the wharf by a passing fisherman. The fate of the chicken shall remain unknown as we headed onward.
It was around 6:30 at night when we arrived at the “Menjangan Resort”, which is a large Eco-resort within the grounds of the 190 sq. km. Bali Barat National Park. We were not going to stay here but the Dive Centre was based in the resort. We thought that we had better report before the diving commenced the next day. The track to the centre of the resort passes through some of the most beautiful natural forest on mainland Bali. It was dusk, so we spotted deer, after which the island is named and saw some wild fowl.
Hiking in the Bali Berat National Park is quite a treat. There are two very well run organisations that manage hiking in the National Park, The Department of Forestry and local Labuan Lalang village Guide organisation, the latter is trained by the Department of Forestry. Either will appoint a guide. Of some considerable note in the National Park is Mr. Wahyudi who works for the Department of Forestry. I had been out on a bird-watching hike in the National Park in 2000 with Mr. Wahyudi, hoping to see the elusive Jelak Bali (Bali Starling):
I recall that what he cold not spot with his naked eye, was not worth seeing, even through a telescope. We did spend a wonderful two hours tracking a Sacred Kingfisher:
While driving through the National Park, our conversation drifted to the fate of the Jelak Bali apart from being put on the 200 rupiah coin. There was a rehabilitation and breeding centre in this National Park, one of the last native habitats for this unfortunate creature:
Perhaps largely due to lack of funding, which in turn is a direct result of our collective apathy, this centre is in trouble. What is to become of this amazing creature is sadly in the lap of the gods.
The dive centre was closed so we headed onward to Pemuteran, had dinner at a Warung on the way and checked into our home-stay by nightfall.
When we passed Negara we headed off the main road to Pengambengan, which is a little fishing village tucked away from the rest of the world. When we entered the port, the fishing boats were all at anchor as the tide was out:
We noticed that the boats were anchored in pairs
On enquiry we were told that the boats are considered to be a couple, male and female. When they head out to the fishing grounds around Ulu Watu, they work the net, strung between them as a couple. One will take the net out at right angles to the other and then when fully stretched will come back in a wide arc to close the net.
When we arrived, a truckload of ice was being loaded into a small boat to be taken out to the fishing boat:
After about an hour or so, the crew were arriving in groups. Each group collected at a particular point on the warf and were taken out to their boat by a smaller tender boat:
We walked to the end of one arm of the warf where there were a group of men collected around their motorcycles. We discovered that these men were not crew, they were the long arm of the owners of the fishing boats and were there to ensure that the crew got onto the boat.
With all the boat crew aboard the boats that were going to sail out all that was required was the boat captain. There was a delay in their arrival because the crew were advised that the schools of fish were nearer to the port than Ulu Watu and therefore it would not be necessary to leave early.
So the crew remained on board and occupied their time as best they could. The crew of the boat closest to us did just that by playing music as loud as they could but listening to it in silence. It was somewhat reminiscent of John Bertram boat on the America’s cup challenge, going out to do battle to the sound of “Land of Under”.
The appropriate time to start seemed to approach with the rising tide. Quite by surprise, twelve outrigger engines that flanked the sides of a pair of boats like cannon, roared into life:
Almost instantaneously the engines of all the other boats with crew on board did the same. Amid the cacophony of revving engines, exhaust fumes, blaring music, captains orders, a sense of order and discipline seemed to pervade the harbour. Each pair of boats patiently waited its turn to head down the channel to the open water:
Within a few minutes, all the boats that were going out for the night had left and were now specks on the horizon, leaving behind the empty silence of the harbour
We then watched in silence as a Balinese woman came to place an offering at a pillar where her husband had fallen and injured himself. She released a small chicken that wandered about somewhat surprised as to its newly found freedom, only to be caught again further down the wharf by a passing fisherman. The fate of the chicken shall remain unknown as we headed onward.
It was around 6:30 at night when we arrived at the “Menjangan Resort”, which is a large Eco-resort within the grounds of the 190 sq. km. Bali Barat National Park. We were not going to stay here but the Dive Centre was based in the resort. We thought that we had better report before the diving commenced the next day. The track to the centre of the resort passes through some of the most beautiful natural forest on mainland Bali. It was dusk, so we spotted deer, after which the island is named and saw some wild fowl.
Hiking in the Bali Berat National Park is quite a treat. There are two very well run organisations that manage hiking in the National Park, The Department of Forestry and local Labuan Lalang village Guide organisation, the latter is trained by the Department of Forestry. Either will appoint a guide. Of some considerable note in the National Park is Mr. Wahyudi who works for the Department of Forestry. I had been out on a bird-watching hike in the National Park in 2000 with Mr. Wahyudi, hoping to see the elusive Jelak Bali (Bali Starling):
I recall that what he cold not spot with his naked eye, was not worth seeing, even through a telescope. We did spend a wonderful two hours tracking a Sacred Kingfisher:
While driving through the National Park, our conversation drifted to the fate of the Jelak Bali apart from being put on the 200 rupiah coin. There was a rehabilitation and breeding centre in this National Park, one of the last native habitats for this unfortunate creature:
Perhaps largely due to lack of funding, which in turn is a direct result of our collective apathy, this centre is in trouble. What is to become of this amazing creature is sadly in the lap of the gods.
The dive centre was closed so we headed onward to Pemuteran, had dinner at a Warung on the way and checked into our home-stay by nightfall.
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