Manado | The Furious Panda

January 29, 2012September 4, 2018 by Red

5. Lembeh

NAD, 22-26^th Dec 2011.

I flicked my foot once, then twice in a measured manner. The fin attached to my foot encountered water resistance, and propelled me steadily upwards. I heaved a sigh of relief, which came out as a cluster of bubbles from the regulator valve. I need to work on my buoyancy. I realised I had hovered down and was almost lying prone on the sea floor, right on top of an deceptively camouflaged mud-covered scorpionfish. One more vigorous kick saw me ascending further, in the process kicking up silt which clouded the already murky water, eliciting irritated stares behind tempered glass. The other divers were pros, carrying tens of thousands of dollars of camera equipment. They didn’t appreciate this noob diver spoiling their shots.

I was diving in the Lembeh Straits, known as the muck diving capital of the world. Located at the northern tip of Sulawesi, that oddly shaped landmass of an island in Indonesia, Lembeh is one of those places skilled divers dream of visiting. It is like the Shangri-La of dive spots, the Zanzibar or Timbuktu that land travellers whisper about and aspire to check off their list. For the non-divers reading this: What is muck diving? Muck diving is diving in dirt, silt, sandy bottoms. Contrast that to what you see on TV, on National Geographic documentaries, when you see healthy corals swarming with reef fishes, and pelagic fish in deep blue waters. In muck diving, you won’t see such sights. In muck diving, you are more likely to see disused old tyres, plastic bags, no landmarks of interest on the sea floor, just sandy bottom all around.

So why would anyone contemplate muck diving then? This is the reason.

I was in another world. The many species of bottom dwelling creatures were like nothing I had ever seen. Aso the dive guide beckoned me towards some sea fans. He took out his metal rod and pointed at one fan. I looked closely. On it was the tiniest, miniscule little seahorse, its tail coiled around the stem of the sea fan. It was as large as half the nail on my pinky, this pygmy seahorse, blending innocuously with it’s surroundings.

Next Aso halted, put his finger to his lips, calling for no sudden movement. I stopped, wondering what he was looking out for. The view in front of me was this expanse of brown silt, devoid of any significant points of interest. Then I saw it, a mimic octopus, camouflaged on the sandy bottom. It was stationary, trying to avoid the attention of this group of divers. Eight mottled tentacles spread outwards from its body, flattened against the sea bed. We approached, and the rings around the mimic octopus darkened, a subtle warning to us not to come closer. Then with a sudden flurry, the mimic bolted! Of f it went in the opposite direction, gliding across the sea floor, with a line of eager divers in tow. We trailed the mimic to its burrow, where it buried itself, with only its head sticking out, its eyes staring out at us defiantly.

Next were the painted frogfish. Ugly little fishes, they perch on rocky crevasses, eyes unblinking, mouths agape. Something akin to a deer in the headlights, which is the expression you get when you take its photos. They are not easily spotted; you need to have sharp eyes. Fortunately, we had Aso, who gestured at an orange version of the frogfish. This one was about the size of a fist, unmoving.

Then there were the critters. Little nudibranchs, which became my favourite undersea creatures back when I started being able to spot them, were everywhere. These sea slugs could be found not just on rock outcroppings, but here they were on dead leaves in the sea floor. Colourful chromodorii and noteworthy nembrothas, each one taking its turn to impress me, like a beauty pageant of which I was the roving judge with an underwater camera.

And so it went, one exotic sea creature after another. I would say that I am a pretty experienced diver, but I was surprised by the number of new species I encountered. Even those I am familiar with came in strange variations. Flounders? Yeah, seen them all. Cockatoo flounders? Whoa! Cuttlefish, sure seen many. But flamboyant cuttlefish? Nope, never seem them. Octopus? Seen plenty. Coconut octopus? You must be kidding, there’s such a species of octopi? Apparently yes.

Finally, up to the surface I went. I removed my mask and took in a deep breath of fresh air. The early morning sun was beating down, and the green canopies of Pulau Lembeh trees were inviting me back on mainland, for breakfast at the resort. In the distance, our boat switched on its engine and barrelled towards us. It was more than an hour of diving, and that was only the first dive! Onwards to more great diving!

Getting there:
Silkair departs from Singapore to Manado 4 times a week. Various other airlines depart from Jakarta, including Garuda, LionAir and Sriwijaya frequently. From Manado’s Sam Ratulangi airport, take a hired car down to Bitung, from the harbour, you could charter a boat to take you across to Lembeh. On a budget or feeling adventurous? Take the airport bus to Manado city, flag down a bemo to the long distance bus station (Ask for Bitung bus). And join the crowded bus packed with locals to Bitung City, two hours away. From there, hop on the public boat to Lembeh, and pillion ride an ojek to your resort.

Alternatively, you could pre-book with one of the many dive resorts on Lembeh or on the mainland, near Bitung city. They could arrange for a pick up at the airport and transfer you to the resort. I did my dive with NAD Lembeh, a neat and professionally run outfit, with experienced guides and a very personal touch. Also check out their excellent blog, maintained by Serge and gang.

January 2, 2012September 3, 2018 by Red

4. Tomohon

21^st Dec 2011, Volcano Resort

The dramatically named Volcano Resort sits at the foot of Gunung Api Lokon, just outside Tomohon, Minahasa Province, Sulawesi, Indonesia. The latter is presently not climbable, the volcano a little too active. Instead we are spending the night in a wooden bungalow at the resort. Besides the one resort staff, we had a big party of 6 to 10 year olds having a Christian learning camp, to keep us company at the resort.

The day started out in Ternate: We took the Sriwijaya flight out from Ternate to Manado. Bizarrely, the time difference between the two cities resulted in the flight arriving 15 minutes before it departed! Manado’s Sam Ratulangi airport is much bigger than Ternate’s Babullah airport. The drill is the same though, avoid the first person that comes up to you when you exit the airport. He will quote some ridiculously high price as his transport fee. This time round however, the cab driver actually pointed out the direction when I said we wanted to take the public transport (bemo).

One of the many churches in and around Tomohon.

Christmas is coming and nowhere is it more obvious than here in North Sulawesi. From the get-go, the bemo (or angkut, or mikrolet, as it is also known as), from the airport to Manado’s Terminal Paal 2 passes through roads with X’mas light up. You can hear carols and hymns everywhere. The bemos are playing through Silent Night, Jingle Bell Rock, O Holy Night, and the lady in the bemo had a ringtone playing We Wish You A Merry Xmas. The folks here are devout Christians, and you can see it by the number of churches seen along the way.

From the Terminal Paal 2 station in Manado, flag the bemo to Karombasan Terminal at the south of the city. This is where you can take the bus to Tomohon. We decided to get out of Manado and instead chill at Tomohon, higher up in the hills, cooler and without the bustle of the big ciy.

Tomohon’s terminal – Terminal Beriman – was where we arrived at. We picked our resort for the night, Volcano Resort, at the town just before Tomohon (Take the Terminal Beriman to Kakaskasen bemo – The good thing about the bemos here is that their destinations are clearly labelled, unlike those in Ternate).

At Tomohon, we delved into the market, and there it was, the macabre sight that I was looking for, on the chopping boards, for sale, you have pig’s heads, dogs, and bats with wings torn off. There were some live dogs in cages as well, awaiting their unfortunate fate. I lasted all of five minutes before staggering out, trying hard not to gag. Don’t judge I say, the Minahasans have their own delicacies, just not the type I would try anytime soon.

We had lunch (soto Makassar, if you must know, I had no stomach for the special local cusine) before deciding to drop by Tondano. The bemo takes around a half hour, and from Tondano, a connecting bemo goes into the countryside (Tondano- Remboken route) where we ended up at the Sumaru Eno Family Spring Resort. It was a weekday so the place was pretty empty. There were hot spring pools, fishing areas, those water pedal thingies, all in the middle of a park overlooking the Lake Tondano. Serene and a good way to while the afternoon away.

Back in Tondano, it was dusk and the x’mas decorations were out. Little lighted xmas trees lined up the roads, throughout the entire town! Very x’massey feel which the light drizzle didn’t dampen.