Sumbawa
Casamara
John & Susan Simpson
Tue 8 Oct 2024 10:33
In 1815 there was an enormous volcanic eruption on the island of Sumbawa. Before 1815 Mount Tambora had been one of the highest peaks in Indonesia but the force of the blast was so great that its height was reduced from 14,000 feet to 9,000 feet in an instant. The volume of debris projected into the atmosphere led to 1816 becoming known as 'the year without a summer'. Across the northern hemisphere the impact on the weather was so great that crops failed and animals died, leading to widespread famine. Thankfully Mount Tambora was sleeping peacefully as we passed by on our way along the Sumbawan coast. We had visited Bima, the largest city on Sumbawa and were now making our westward towards Sumbawa Besar, the capital of the island.  Mount Tambora Sumbawa is a long thin island of two halves with a deep inlet half way along its length. We anchored off Moyo island at the head of the inlet, a lovely island with a little village next to the anchorage and a walk to the beautiful Mata Jitu waterfall about an hour inland. After the mountains of plastic waste we’d seen elsewhere we were delighted to find that Moyo village was very clean and tidy.  Moyo village Whilst there we had an interesting morning trying to feel our way through Indonesian bureaucracy. John was trying to get a parcel released which was stuck in Customs in Jakarta. To do this we needed to buy a stamp to affix to a document so that John could sign over the stamp, scan the document and send it by email. We didn’t hold out much hope of getting the stamp in Moyo because it was such a tiny, isolated place but we ventured ashore early one morning to give it a go. Once ashore, the lady in the corner shop sent us to the village office where all administrative things happen, and on the way we passed the local scooter-taxi men sitting about in the shade in the village square. The men were very interested to know where we were going and a couple of them took us to the village office. There we established that the village secretary hadn’t arrived yet so one of the men zipped off on his scooter to get her. Once she’d been found and brought to the office we managed to make ourselves understood. The secretary could help us but the stamps were in her house, so off she scuttled to get one. Twenty minutes later we’d completed the transaction and were whizzing back to Casamara in the dinghy, very pleased with ourselves. Unfortunately, when we came to stamp and sign our document we discovered that there were two other documents that also required the same treatment! So it was back in the dinghy to the village, across the square past the taxi men and into the village office to buy two more stamps. The secretary had only brought one stamp with her the first time so back home she went for her packet of stamps and we waited another 20 minutes to go through the process for a second time. Finally, it was back to the boat to stamp and send the official documents. Success at last!  Casamara from the beach at Moyo  Swimming at Mata Jitu Waterfall  The dinghy dock required careful balancing to get along the gangplank to the shore! The Sail 2 Indonesia rally has visited a number of places where local people are hoping to develop tourism and our next destination was one of these. Gelora Beach resort isn’t much more than a bar on a beach at the moment but there are plans to make it one of the yachting destinations of the future. Unfortunately the anchorage as it stands isn’t ideal. Sandwiched between a fish farm and a substantial gnarly reef, the rally boats struggled to get their anchors to dig into the rocky bottom. It took us 5 attempts to get our anchor to set and one of the other boats had their anchor drag whilst they were ashore and damage was caused to another boat. Anyway, it was a sociable time with lots of tours organised to show us the local area. A group of us went into Sumbawa Besar, the capital city, and were a bit bemused that our minibus had a police escort, complete with blue lights and sirens. We were told that the police escort was to ensure our safety but as far as we could see it was more likely to cause an accident as the escort would drive into the centre of the road every time a vehicle came towards us and there wasn’t always anywhere else for the oncoming vehicle to go!  Police escort in Sumbawa Besar In the city various events were taking place to showcase local history, food and culture. We visited the house of the local ruling family, sampled Sumbawa delicacies at a cooking competition, went to the oldest building in the city (now a museum) where we watched traditional dancing and dressed ourselves in local costume. Lunch was at a restaurant where we ate sitting cross-legged at low tables.  The King’s house - the colour yellow represents power  John with cooking competition contestants  In local costume The majority of the population in Sumbawa works in agriculture and the island is noticeably drier and less forested than others we have seen so far. Buffalo are used for ploughing and preparing the paddy fields and the local farmers have a monthly competition to show off their buffalo and their own buffalo driving skills. We were taken to a local village where a paddy field was set up for buffalo racing. Buffalo adorned with colourful headdresses were standing in the shade of the trees and more were arriving by the minute. The animals looked very well cared for, very clean and well fed in contrast to the cattle seen elsewhere. When it came to the competition each buffalo pair was driven by someone (man or woman) standing on what looked like an artist’s easel strung between the two animals. The aim was to race as fast as possible towards the other end of the field where the ground had been flooded and a stick planted in the middle. The winner was the fastest pair to reach the stick but the run only counted if the two buffalo passed either side of the stick. Part of the process seemed to be to fertilise the ground as the buffalo would dump a large dollop of manure into the water as they walked their way to the start line. For some reason, the farmers would wash their faces in this muddy, manure filled water each time they finished a run. Yuck! John, along with a number of our sailing friends, took up the challenge to have a go at driving the buffalo. It was a good job he rode at the beginning before the water became too full of poo!  John heading for a muddy end to his buffalo racing run As we left the village, buffalo were still arriving from far and wide and it was clear the event hadn’t been staged for our benefit. It was a much enjoyed local festivity that we had been invited to see and take part in. It was certainly a spectacle we won’t forget. |