We stopped in the middle of the rainforest at the top of the mountain, turned off the engine and just listened. Sounds of jungle birds pierced the air, monkeys screamed, and at five-minute intervals pairs of hornbills passed overhead sounding like locomotives. Strangler figs silently choked the life out of trees whose massive 35-meter-high canopies blocked out the sun. An hour later, we reached the plantation guesthouse where - two months after the general presidential elections in September 2004 - portraits of Megawati and Hamzah Haz still hung on the wall.
Where were we? The far reaches of Sumatra or Kalimantan, right? Wrong. We were on Java, an island the size of New York State but with a population of over 120 million people, one of the most densely popular regions on earth. Although it was rainy November, I decided to risk crossing East Java’s mountains to the island’s south coast. For over 30 years traveling in Java, I had always missed the rare and unforgettable experience of witnessing sea turtles laying eggs on the beach at Sukamade in the middle of the incredible Meru Betiri National Park.
One of the most important nature reserves on Java, this 50,000-hectare national park lies on the southeast coast of East Java where thickly wooded hills rise steeply to over 1000 meters. The park is of considerable botanical importance as one of Java’s few remaining areas of relatively undisturbed primal montane forests, the only known habitat of two of the island’s most remarkable endemic plant species, the Rafflesia zollingeriana and the Batanphora fungosa.
Best known as the last refuge of the Javan tiger, a 1978 study revealed that five or six still survived, but the unique diminutive species is now believed extinct. Sleek long-bodied panthers (macan tutul), wild pigs, muncak deer, civets, leopards, black and silver-leaf monkeys and the long-tailed macaque, as well as two species of hornbill (wreathed and the smaller pied hornbill) are just a few of the many unique species inhabiting the reserve.
From the main road west from Banyuwangi to Jember, we turned south at the town of Kaliburu. At first we passed through a hot, flat countryside of citrus orchards, hundreds of schoolchildren on bicycles. Road signs indicated that we were heading in the right direction, but there were so many perplexing intersections and twists and turns that we had to continually ask people along the way if we had the right road.
At the 27 kilometer mark, we passed over a small mountain range with teak, kayu putih (sengon laut) and mahogany plantations, then our first pos pemeriksaan. We would be encountering many of these checkpoints that have been set up to control the movement of highly prized timber. Soon after, the chocolate and rubber estates began. At the 45 km point, we came to a small village with an unattended information center with informative charts, photos, maps and even a tabletop three dimensional topo map showing the lay of the land and surroundings bays of the national park.
This is where the fun really began. For the whole 12 kilometers ride to Sukamade we felt like were taking part in a commercial showing the off-road capabilities of SUVs. Though unbelievably rough, pitching us wildly back and forth, we were grateful that the road was constructed of rocks. As we crawled tortuously up the mountain, we passed wonderful views high above the coast, then stopped to admire the deep purple specimen of the remarkable bunga bangkai (corpse plant). Huge rainforest trees began to appear.
About an hour later, we arrived in Sukamade on the southern coast of the park. Here you can receive just two radio stations if you aim your antenna just right. A village of plantation workers, big trucks lumber occasionally by our guesthouse and women in conical hats ride around on oversize antique bicycles. Besides the vintage rubber, cacao and coffee processing factory built here in 1927, there’s a church, mosque, grade school, and wartel. The atmosphere is permeated with the nostalgia of the plantation economy of colonial-era Netherlands East Indies.
That afternoon, we visited the factory with its high smoke stack where methods are still used that date from the early years of the last century – two-man hand presses, a work room that binds the 113 kg of rubber into bales, wood-fired drying and curing ovens, shacks stacked with racks of crinkled rubber - a virtual museum of archaic industrial technology. In a back room is bone yard full of multiple generations of obsolete machinery.
It rained so hard on the afternoon of our arrival that it was touch and go if we would ever make it out the next day. As the downpour continued, we were even worried if we would be able to negotiate the 5 km through rubber trees to Turtle Beach. The sky was pure white, a sign that the rain could lock in. But, finally it let up. We had dinner, hung out for awhile, then around 8pm headed for the beach, a 45 minute drive on hard packed dirt road with surprisingly few puddles. After paying our fee, a ranger accompanied our small group on the 15 minute walk to the beach – a wild, totally undisturbed, empty and inhospitable 3-km-long stretch of coastline pounded by the deep green surf of the Indian Ocean.
The wands of light from our flashlights picked the way through the darkness. After a five minute walk, we saw peculiarly notched tracks made by a turtle’s flippers that crisscrossed the beach like the tracks of a diminutive bulldozer, all leading to the dark tree line. We followed one track inland to the walls of a mound looming up. We could distinguish the sound of sand being scooped up and thrown outward to form walls around the dark shape of a turtle in its deep nesting pit. The guide had us crouch and wait for the turtle to lay her leathery, golf ball-sized eggs, up to 140 at a time, deep in the sand. He estimated that it would take about an hour.
Nasty flies plagued us as we waited in the darkness. Finally, after depositing her eggs, the mother turtle headed out to sea again, its flippers propelling itself resolutely into the surf, the top of its carapace gradually disappearing under the waves and into the immense, pitch dark and unforgiving ocean.
Practicalities
Sukamade is 90 kilometers by road south of Jember, E. Java. For the journey you’ll need something more substantial than the light Kijang Capsul compact we took in November 2004. More like a FWD jeep or landrover with big tires and a high wheel base is in order. Another way of getting there is by taking a truck from Kalibaru, a town on the main Jember-Banywangi highway. Just stand in the back and hold on. A truck leaves Sukamade every morning at 10 or 11am to Kalibaru, then returns to Sukamade at 1 or 2pm. Cost: Rp10,000 per person, 3 hours. Because it waits for more passengers sometimes the truck is late departing.
The park entrance fee is Rp50,000 per group (which includes parking and a ranger), Rp15,000 surcharge for foreigners. Best time to visit is the dry season in June, July and August. Because of this punishing road, Sukamade gets far fewer tourists than Grajagan Beach to the west, thus you have better chance of seeing turtles here. Turtles are shy creatures and won’t return to their egg-laying places where they may be bothered by too many curious, camera-toting onlookers making a lot of noise. Thankfully, the road and the park’s sheer remoteness will keep Sukamade the way it is for a long time to come.
Where to Stay
Most tourists base themselves at the Margo Utomo Agro Resort (tel. 0333-897700) in Kalibaru on the road from Malang to Jember, then make just a day trip into Meru Betiri. This is a very comfortable and pleasant Dutch-style hotel with swimming pool. Or you can stay close to the action in Sukamade itself at Wisma Perkebunan Sukamade. For reservations, contact them at tel. 0331-484711. Built in the 1970’s, it has a big wide terrace for relaxing and its 12 rooms (with 2, 3, 4 or 5 beds) are big and clean with cold water and Indonesian-style mandi. Electricity is turned on at 6pm until 10pm when kero lamps are lit. The juice is turned on again at four in the morning.
Pak Budi, the proprietor, is a most courteous and amiable host. The only sounds heard are the birds, the mooing of Brahmin bulls and the occasional passing motorcycle and lumbering truck. Tariff: Rp30,000 per person, breakfast Rp8000, lunch and dinner Rp11,500. The meals are simple, repetitive and on the greasy side but OK – lots of ramen noodles, rice, omelets and corn fritters. Sign the guest book and join your signature with people from all over the world. Pak Budi can also arrange for a local guide to lead you to the beach. A very plain penginapan, just 30 meters from the ticket office near the beach, charges Rp50,000 per room but doesn’t include breakfast. Visitors are also welcome to pitch a tent in the yard.
E-mail : pakbill2003@yahoo.com
Copyright@2004 PakBill
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