Indeed, the Banda Sea and the Forgotten Islands
have an air of mystery to them, enough to lure me to
sign up for a one-way 1000-mile westward journey from
Ambon to Maumere, aboard the luxurious Blue Manta, a
142-foot (43m) steel-hulled liveaboard powered by twin
engines. However, it would only be after an arduous
32-hour trip to Jakarta, where I napped at my airport
hotel before my overnight flight to Ambon.
After being picked up midmorning and delivered
to the boat, we had an early lunch and checkout dive.
Sure, I was exhausted, but my adrenaline kicked in!
Ferreting out treasures among trash in the muck was
an exciting challenge. Two blue and yellow ribbon eels
contrasted brightly with the sand. Snowflake, yellowhead,
and fimbriated morays partially emerged from
recesses. A psychedelic-colored stonefish swam in a
graceful arc from a rock to the sand. A two-foot juvenile
pinnate spadefish brightened the area. It was
quite the checkout dive.
Even so, a few divers grumbled. A month before,
Blue Manta switched its
departure from
Saumlaki to
Ambon. Some
divers had to
change their
tickets, at no
minor expense
and inconvenience.
While
they would
be reimbursed
for additional
costs, no one
enjoys reworking
complicated flight plans at the last
minute.
I had joined 18 other
experienced divers for the
12-day/11-night cruise. The
Blue Manta's interior and the
14, 200 sq. foot cabins convey
a modern, bare-bones design,
without nods to Indonesia culture
and art. (It's owned by
a Singapore businessman.) The
galley, dining room, lounge,
and a few cabins fill out the
main deck. The deck below has
cabins, outdoor dining, and
bar, and additional cabins are
below decks. Mine, on the main
deck, had two large windows (below-deck cabins have portholes), efficient air conditioning, plenty of storage,
a safe, even a desk with a chair, and a sizable head. The upper deck, mostly covered,
is for kicking back. As you might imagine, she's an expensive boat; I paid
$6650, including a 10 percent single supplement.
Frenchman Cedric Lesenechal, the cruise director, dive instructor, and go-to
guy for questions, guided my assigned group of four (a couple from France and an
American woman), the standard guide-to-diver ratio. Before each dive, he showed us
the location on Google Earth, and then cleverly constructed the reef with Kleenex
boxes, saltshakers, and ketchup bottles, which he covered with towels to emulate
the topography. At the dive site, when we were ready to backroll off the dinghy,
he would say, "Go in, and come back." We all did. Every time. Underwater, his
superb hand directions made his intentions clear; if we encountered a current, he
would signal, "What do we want to do? Go around the corner and face it, or return
how we had come?"
Finding the esoteric was his forte -- for example, sea snakes at Bubble Reef
in the Manuk area. I watched a toxic golden sea snake, broad in body, approach.
Though the critter is extremely unlikely to bite, Cedric had warned us not to
react if they came close, so when one circled his torso and rubbed against his
fins, I calmly watched. Smaller, black-banded sea kraits also appeared. Below, the
sandy bottom surrounding this volcanic island was too hot for me keep my hand in
it for more than a few seconds.
The Blue Manta carried two substantial
fiberglass dinghies with good
ladders and two inflatables for shuttling
the five groups of divers to the
sites. After the first round of divers
suited up on the sizable dive deck,
the next round would follow. The helpful
crew checked our nitrox -- it was
a steady 32 -- and loaded our tanks
and fins into the dinghies. While gearing up, I had two minor incidents
-- my whistle broke off my alt-air
hose, and the lanyard holding my
Galileo dive computer snapped. Not to
worry. Crewmembers immediately solved
the problems. After the dives, they
helped me pull off my wetsuit, gave it an antimicrobial rinse, hung it to
dry, and I would rinse off in one of
the showers.
Each night we motored 8 to
12 hours in calm waters to reach
the premier spots along our route,
making three to four dives daily.
There were few takers for the two
night dives. Half my dives were
greater than 90 feet (27m), often in
strong currents, so this is a trip
for experienced divers, especially
since the nearest chamber is in
Bali, 24 hours away.
The Spice Islands were replete
with colorful soft corals, currents and lots of fish. At Leaning Tree, a large
seamount teemed with zillions of fish, including a seven-foot humphead wrasse
(striking, with its blue head and yellow-green body), pufferfish being cleaned,
bird wrasse, and spotted soapfish. As I ascended from 96 feet (29m), I had to stay
tight with the wall to avoid being pushed down by the strong current. The guide of another group had to anchor a rope so the divers
could pull themselves up.
One day Cedric gave us the choice of either
diving or visiting the main city in the area. The
previous night, I had joined others for drinks at a
newly renovated resort, so I was eager to see more
of the city and joined the tour. I was immersed
in the pleasant aroma of nutmeg and cloves wafting
in the breeze. I walked to the old Dutch fort for
a great view, where bats were flying out of the
structure, and the stench of guano assailed me.
I had great dives at Dawera Island on the
southeast rim of the Banda Sea Trench. Sponges,
soft corals and cabbage, table branching and mushroom
hard coral covered the Napo seamount. In clear
water, thousands of pyramid butterfly fish and
fusiliers, giant grouper, and schools of jacks swam
about, as did colorful blue-dotted peacock grouper,
sweet lips, and coral grouper. Love Rocks sported a beautiful coral-encrusted wall with pink coral trees with white stalks, while barracuda
swirled in the blue. I even spotted a tiny pregnant pygmy seahorse. While
the water hovered around 82ºF (28ºC), I was pleased I had worn a 5mm wetsuit when
I met the frequent chilly thermoclines.
The 20 all-male Indonesian crew kept the vessel spic and span, constantly
scrubbing the decks and dinghies, cleaning off tables, and emptying cabin trash.
Cedric announced dives and meals via an intercom, beginning each morning with
gentle music followed by "Good morning everyone; it's a beautiful dive day. Time
for a cup of coffee before the first dive." I never had to worry about snoozing
through anything.
After the first dive, we were greeted with a breakfast of eggs, cereal,
bacon or another meat. One breakfast included a chicken-based soup ladled over
boiled eggs, onions, ginger, scallions, noodles, and spices -- it was delicious.
Most days, they offered an outstanding light bread covering a hunk of chocolate.
Buffet lunches included chicken, fish, or beef, vegetables, salad, and rice. Each
evening, the staff served a five-course dinner, beginning with soup, followed by an appetizer, salad, an entrée with
sautéed vegetables, and dessert. My
favorites included sashimi, pan-fried
dumplings, Indonesian rice, and seared
fish. Mousse cups were a favorite dessert.
The kitchen excelled with their
soups, sauces, and bread baked daily.
However, the meal quality could -- and
should -- be more consistent given the
trip's price.
The Blue Manta is a photographer's dream, with a fine camera room and
camera tables with air hoses on the
dive deck. About half the passengers
were wanna-be-better photographers, led
by Kerri Bingham of Got Muck. Queen
among them was Erin Quigley, a master
image editor who had her students
individually edit the same photo and
then showed them how to improve. The
divers ranged from 35 to 78, with most
older than 50. Three Thai divers kindly
shared the spices they had brought to
enhance their meals. A French couple
joined me regularly for cocktail hour.
Although there were some big egos on
board, we all got along well.
After spending six days at the
Banda Arc, we headed west to the
Forgotten Islands, where exploratory diving revealed mounds of soft corals. Schools
of barracuda, jacks, and fusiliers flitted by. Once, as many as 40 humphead wrasses
hung in the blue. At Nyata Island, a current carried us right along. I spotted
a striking black and white Jorunna funebris, a dotted nudibranch and other critters,
like a hairy pink squat crab, emperor shrimp on sea cucumber, and a pinktailed
shrimp. Cedric entertained us by juggling some baseball-sized dead jigsaw
maze corals. Afterward, we celebrated this great dive day with a beach party, complete
with snacks, drinks, and music.
And then a glitch at Amortaun. As Cedric leaned over the dinghy to check the
current, he inadvertently dropped his mask. He shouted to a diver who was prepared
to backroll, "Dive now -- Get my mask." He hit the water, thinking it was a joke
because Cedric had often reminded us not to drop our masks when rinsing them. He
submerged and 10 minutes later, no mask retriever and no mask. His wife and the
rest of us became worried. We radioed another dinghy, which had an extra mask
for Cedric, and we backrolled in 15 minutes later. Soon, the missing diver found
us. If this had happened the next day at Utara, this could have had a different
ending. You see, there we dropped to 30 feet (9m) and hung on as the current made
it impossible to kick forward. We surfaced, reboarded the dinghy, and found another
spot where there was no current.
We motored to Alor, not as abundant in coral, but with plenty of tropical
fish -- bumphead parrotfish, humphead wrasse, and colorful anthias. Macro
Market at Pantar, Alor Straight, provided our second macro dive and I spotted
three Rhinopias -- well-camouflaged scorpionfish -- two yellow and one rusty red.
Yellow-striped garden eels added color to the brown slopes, as did nudibranchs,
mantis shrimp, and white frogfish. At Pura Vida, I dropped to 96 feet (29m), hitting
several cool thermoclines around 75°F (24°C), in the otherwise-86°F (30°C)
water. The short, dense coral coverage provided a nursery for rock mover wrasse and other juveniles. In tight formation,
a large school of dark blue and
white four-inch convict blennies mimicked
striped catfish. On my last dive of the
trip in Lembata, a hammerhead swooped
in, the first I had seen that was not
too distant to identify. I should add
that Blue Manta had Andrei Voinigescu,
award-winning photographer and filmmaker
onboard to document the trip with two
drones and underwater scooter. He filmed
all reefs and locations, above-and-belowseas,
and kept us well informed.
Again, a word about the meals. With
good food, a glass or two of good wine
is an essential compliment. However, on
Day One in Ambon, Cedric told us that
the local liquor store, where they buy
their supplies, had no wine, just hard spirits. I bought a bottle of gin, as there
were plenty of tonic and limes on board. Not until the next-to-the-last day did
a minor miracle occur: the Damai liveaboard anchored nearby. One of our divers,
Kerri Bingham, dinghied her way to the Damai with a most serious question: how
many bottles of red wine can you spare? Of the 10 she returned with, I happily
scored one for $24, which I shared that night when the chef prepared a tasty array
on the lower deck grill: chicken, shrimp, lamb, sausage wrapped in bacon, salad,
and pineapple. Afterward, the crew entertained with guitars, bongos, and spoons,
and we divers joined them in song. Any lack of talent was overshadowed by everyone's
great enthusiasm.
As we gathered on the last night to watch the sunset as we began on our
12-hour steam to Maumere, three juvenile blue whales followed for an hour -- a
fitting end to a great trip. The Blue Manta is a substantial vessel with an outstanding
crew. While the craft is not as sexy-looking as the masted phinisis,
the typical liveaboard in the area, it is surely better suited as a dive vessel.
Having been on 20 or so liveaboards, this is tied for first place on my list with
the Andromeda in the Sudanese Red Sea.
PS: Only make this trip if you are up to the diving. One young American
woman arrived with an "undiagnosed lung disease." According to her, she had been
affected for a year. She struggled during the dives, often having to surface
early, taking the instructor away from other divers. Cedric added her to our team for one dive, and while monitoring her, one of our divers lost us and surfaced
by herself. Cedric advised the challenged diver not to dive with her breathing
problem, and eventually, she went from her one-a-day to none. Did she not report
this problem on the form, and subsequently get a physician's report? Diving not
only endangered her life, but it also affected the quality of diving for other
divers. Divers with such conditions should not be allowed on board.
-- J.D.
Our undercover diver's bio: J.D. says, "I began diving 15 years ago, quickly becoming obsessed with observing
fish and critter behavior. A thousand dives later, with plenty of time to burn, I've made half my dives in the Caribbean
and the remainder mostly in Indonesia, Philippines, Japan, Palau, Papua New Guinea, the Solomon Islands and
Turkey. Using the excuse of absorbing local culture, I've drunk kava in Fiji, penis soup in PNG, and spat betelnut juice
in Palau. I'm convinced it helped my fish ID skills in those regions.
Diver's Compass: Blue Manta's prices put it in the top bracket
for Indonesian liveaboards ... Wi-Fi was free, but when there were
several users, it was very slow ... White Manta Diving also operates
the Raja Manta in Raja Ampat, Indonesia. www.whitemanta.com ... Their website includes good dive site videos ... You can make
reservations directly with White Manta (Max Hand, their operations
manager, is efficient), or their U.S. partner, Explorer Ventures,
to handle more complex details, www.explorerventures.com ... Nitrox
was $100 for the week (don't you think for $6650 they ought to toss
it in?), massages $35, liquor about $30 a bottle, beer $5, T-shirts $20, and the
video $100 ... Charges and tips must be paid in cash ... Soft drinks and juices
were free ... Jakarta Airport Hotel: $61