Indian Ocean, Indonesia: 2 days
July 1999
I started traveling from a young age, tagging along with my parents every time they went back to Singapore to visit their extended family. I followed them everywhere like a shadow, sitting quietly at the table for free lunches and dinners with people I didn’t know, greeting strangers as “aunty” and “uncle”, and being hugged by older ladies exclaiming, “Wow! She’s growing so fast!”.
The long-haul flights to Singapore every other year set the benchmark that sparked my addiction to travel. The first adventure I can remember was when I was visiting Singapore in 1999, and we were staying with the Lims – family friends I had known since I was born. They were a wonderful family of six – two grandparents, Ah Gong and Ah Ma, Uncle Chin Tong and Aunty Phyllis (it is customary to call non-blood related elders by “uncle” and “aunty”), and their two children, Erica and Jolene.
One of the nights we were in Singapore, my dad dragged us to dinner with a man I had never met before – an old colleague of his. I greeted him as Uncle Chor Kee, and sat down quietly at the other end of the table. My sister and I immediately pulled out our first generation gray brick Gameboys, and put our heads down to play Tetris. Every few minutes or so, my dad’s booming laughter shook the table as the adults reminisced about their younger years.
The kelong crew
Somewhere in the conversation, Uncle Chor Kee asked my dad if he wanted to join him for a visit to a kelong that he owned. A kelong is a hut on wooden stilts that sits in the middle of the ocean, and is generally used for fishing purposes. My dad excitedly jumped at the opportunity. I didn’t know that it would be an experience I would never be able to forget.
The kelong, Indonesia
The city:
From left to right: my sister, Jolene & I on the ferry to Indonesia
The kelong. In order to get there, we had to take a ferry from Singapore to Indonesia, and then another small boat for 1-2 hours to the kelong. When we arrived in Indonesia, we went to grab a bite before the next leg of the journey. We had a huge meal among our whole group, which was made up of ten of us. We must have scarfed down at least 15 plates of local food, and we gorged until we couldn’t eat anymore. The total bill came out to 100,000 rupiah, and I thought to myself, wow, that’s a really expensive meal! Turns out after converting it back to US dollars, it was less than $10.
The accommodation:
Pretty obvious – the kelong.
The people:
There were 10 of us – Uncle Chin Tong, Aunty Phyllis, Jolene (Erica couldn’t make it, I can’t remember why), my parents, my sister, Uncle Chor Kee and his friend, and two Indonesian guides who spoke no English. When we got to the kelong, there was a friendly dog that greeted us excitedly.
The adorable kelong puppy
The food:
A day full of fishing in the middle of the ocean meant some of the freshest seafood I’ve ever eaten. Of course at the time, I was too young to appreciate it.
The sights:
In Indonesia before the boat ride
With our full tummies from lunch, we walked over to the jetty where a motorboat was waiting for us. I had to double take when I saw the boat. It was a long, shallow boat made of dark, deeply indented wood. The motor was simply hanging off the back of it. Unsure of what to expect, the ten of us piled in, and one of the Indonesian guides yanked violently on the string of the motor a few times before it jumped to life. As we took off for the middle of nowhere, I wondered how the guides could know where we were going. We were flying forward into the depths of the ocean, unsure of when the journey would be over. 15 minutes in, I noticed that water was slowly seeping into the boat. It passed through my head that we might sink in the middle of the ocean with no way of contacting anyone for help. At the same moment, it was almost as if one of the guides read my mind – he reached for a metal bucket at the front of the boat, and casually started to bail the water out. Apparently, this was not out of the ordinary, and I watched him carefully as he would scoop a bucket of water and pour it back into the ocean every few minutes.
A windy day for boating
In the middle of the journey, the motor sputtered and died. Looking around, I couldn’t see any land and I panicked for a moment, thinking that we had no way of swimming to safety if we needed to. The eighth or ninth time that the guide wrenched the chain of the motor, it finally came to life again.
After what felt like forever, we saw the kelong in the distance. It really was out in the middle of the ocean. As I glanced around, there was nothing in sight but water in every direction – no land, boats, or people. As we pulled up to the edge of the kelong, I noticed that the structure creaked and swayed dangerously at every movement of the wind and waves. I was almost sure it was going to fall over and we would drown in the night. The Indonesian guide pointed up to the top, and motioned that we had to climb up. I looked across the stilts, but there was no ladder in sight. I watched as the first Indonesian guide grabbed a hold of the knotted rope holding the kelong together and scaled up the side flawlessly, like a monkey climbing a tree. Just as I had planned my route up and it was my turn to climb up the kelong, my dad pointed at the stilts and said, “See that stuff covering the poles? Those are barnacles, so if you fall in, don’t grab on. They’ll cut you open and your blood will lure a shark over that will eat you”. Thanks dad. Trying to get the image out of my head, I grabbed onto one of the ropes and started to climb up. It was easier and more fun than it looked.
Dad fishing in the sunset, Uncle Chin Tong & Jolene relaxing on the deck
Being on the kelong felt like I was in another world. It was rugged and untouched, definitely not a typical tourist activity (although I’ve heard that today, the concept has been commercialized and marketed as a vacation spot). It looked like a small house perched on 100-or-so wooden stilts, plunged deep underwater. To this day, I still wonder how the structure was originally built, and how it had been able to sustain years of storms, waves, and wind. The stilts were bound tightly together with thick rope, and were coated with thick, wild barnacles that crept up from the water. The hut itself sat on the edge of a square platform, and was made of dark wooden planks tacked together and covered with a straw roof. There were paths leading out from the hut to another walkway that was circling the structure. I could see that all of the wood was heavily weathered – parts of the building were rotted by salt, wind, and rain. Another path led from the hut to a small building in the corner, which was an outhouse. The outhouse was just a hole in the floor with a 20 foot drop, so you had to be very careful not to fall into the ocean when doing your business.
My sister & I getting ready for a fishing adventure!
Once everyone had gotten up the kelong, we unpacked the fishing gear, relieved to get off the choppy water and start with the next activity. We set up our fishing rods, and each of them had five hooks and a lure attached. We were instructed not to cast our line out, as there wasn’t too much room to swing our rods backward. All of us dropped our fishing lines into the water and waited. Within five minutes, I felt a sharp tug on my fishing line, and saw my rod bend. I had caught something! I quickly reeled my line up, excited to see what would come up from the other side of the water. As the hooks rose out of the ocean, I saw flecks of silver flitting around in the sun. I hadn’t caught one fish, but one fish per hook with little to no effort! Although the fish were small, it was instantly gratifying, and I couldn’t wait to do it again.
Preparing the hooks
Every time I dropped my line into the water, my hooks would be full of silver fish with yellow fins within minutes. Sometimes, there were even two fish fighting over the same hook. I quickly pulled each one off the barbed hooks, impatient to cast my line out again, and after a while, my hands were coated in dried silver fish scales.
Fishing away
Feeling confident, my dad’s friend tried to cast his line out a bit further. As he swung his line backwards, three of the hooks got lodged into the skin of my dad’s back. There was obviously a reason we were told not to cast the line out. We all had a good laugh after we were able to pull the barbed ends out.
It started to get dark, so we packed up all our things and went inside the hut. Our clothes were covered in a thick layer of salt made from a mixture of our sweat and the air of the sea. The hut was equipped with with an electric stove and a giant wok, so we fried the fish we had just caught for our dinner. We chatted and munched away, and the moon soon rose over the dark water, its reflection dancing across the calm surface of the waves.
The giant wok for frying fish
When it was time to go to bed, we rolled out yoga mats on the floor. Tropical weather meant warm nights and no need for blankets. I peeked through the cracks in the floor and saw the ocean rolling by, rocking our hut gently back and forth. As we were being lulled into sleep, out of nowhere, a huge storm suddenly cracked through sky, and torrential rain pounded down on the kelong. What I’ve learned about living in a tropical country is that the rain is very temperamental and unpredictable. It comes so suddenly, so heavily, it’s like an apocalypse. The booming thunder ripped so loudly through the dense sheets of water, it felt like the gods were angry. My heartbeat raced as the tropical monsoon attacked the straw roof. Heavy winds shoved the hut back and forth like rag doll, and I could see lightning spearing the surface of the angry black waves as I peeked out of the gaps in the floor. Talk about the calm before the storm. It was terrifying, and hard to imagine what we would do if the kelong were to topple over. We huddled together inside, and I felt my anxiety creep up. When I get really anxious, I tend to fall asleep (don’t ask me why), and within a few minutes, I was out cold.
We caught a stingray!
While I was sleeping, the storm came and went. I was awoken in the middle of the night by loud yelling outside. Afraid that something was wrong, we all sat up and went to investigate. As we walked out of the hut, I saw that huge floodlights on the side of the kelong had been turned on. Uncle Chor Kee was already outside, his face lit up with excitement. Apparently, one of the fishing traps set below the kelong had caught something. I walked over and cautiously peeked over the edge. Wow! Floating at the surface of the water was a stingray, with a wingspan of about 2 feet. The guides were yelling to each other in Bahasa and racing around the walkway. As nimble as a fox, one of them adeptly scaled down the side of the kelong with a harpoon in his hand, and speared the ray with one swift motion. It was quite the spectacle.
The catch of the night
Once the lifeless stingray had been secured and lifted back up to the surface in a thick green net, the guides went to check on the other traps. Eager to continue the excitement, we followed them to the other end of the kelong. Trapped against one of the stilts was a small shark, slightly larger than the stingray. Again, the Indonesian guide swung himself down the side of the kelong in record time. Using his feet to hold on to the ropes tying the kelong together, he held on to a stilt of the kelong with one hand, and the harpoon with the other. With one quick thrust, he stabbed the shark in its side. Wrapping it in another net, the two guides reeled the dead shark up to the top. After the excitement had calmed down, we finally got back to bed, and slept peacefully until morning.
The transit:
In the morning, we packed up all of our things, sad to leave the adventure behind. We piled back into the wooden boat and started to make our way back to Indonesia. Halfway through the boat ride, I heard my sister yelp loudly. We asked her what was wrong. Turns out there were small insects at the bottom of the boat, and one had crawled over her foot. I took a closer look, and there were 5-10 of them hiding around dark corners of the boat. They were black insects about an inch long with translucent bellies, small spires, and red and yellow spots on their backs. I’m still not sure what they were, but I spent the rest of the boat ride curled up on my seat, afraid that one would crawl across my legs. After what felt like hours of claustrophobia, we finally reached the jetty in Indonesia, and caught the ferry back to Singapore. Truly an adventure of a lifetime.
I wish I could have seen… Another day at the kelong.
Goodbye kelong!
Finding Oysters 