Act | - Paradise?

The hollowing wind cut through my padded jacket to my bones. Standing at 3,726 metres on land that was once seafloor, I sit back drawing desperate breaths from the thin mountain air. Mount Rinjani, the second largest volcano in Indonesia, among many of the volcanic islands on the infamous Ring Of Fire, sits on the Sundra Arc. The Sunda subduction zone is one of the most seismically active plate boundaries on Earth, with the Indo-Australian Plate driving below the Sundra plate at a rate of 70mm annually. With 75% of the worlds active volcanos sprouting from the 8 plate boundaries that make up the Ring Of Fire, the constant pollination of solid volcanic substrata forming around these vents over millennia; has eventually formed the topography we see today. Creating the possibility of life to flourish for land dwelling species, along with the coastal creatures to proliferate in accordance.

The scintillating snake of torch worn trekkers slither up the ridgeline to the moonlit summit. The crimson eye emerges from the ocean of clouds that lay kilometres below. The golden shafts of warmth are welcomed by the heavy breathed hikers, rescued from the gnawing chill that the morning imposed apon them. Climbers behold the emerald eye of Rinjani, Segara Anak, to be studied in return by its pupil Barujari. The youthful volcano forming centre of the crater lake formed from the world altering Samalas eruption nearly eight centuries ago.

the bleak signs of life at the peak is at a polar contrast to what thrives in the distance. The meandering coastline is a divide for the two environmental gradients the volcano has conceived. Beneath the blue curtain fringing coral reef communities thrive in abundance with sharks, turtles, fish and invertebrates calling it home.

well *they did.

With 50% of Earth's coral reefs wiped out in the last 30 years, coral sanctuaries such as Indonesia, holding 16% of the global coral population, have seen first hand the consequences of the human touch. With eyes glued to the coastline, the dappled white of bleached coral is the smile of the corrupt business man. With climate change, ocean acidification and over-fishing acting as fingers of the palm that we take and incessantly ask for more with. How long can this Oliver Twist charade go on for?

The banging drums and chiming bells from the entry ceremony swirled between my ears as I stepped into the labyrinth of the palm thatched village homes. Lost in the tight alleyways between the dwellings, my tour guide Amat Pani leads me through the maze calling over his shoulder "The name of this village is Sade. Sade means medicine." as we weave through the local crowd. Sade Village is a 15 generational settlement made up 400 people flourishing inside. With Lombok's spiritual Animism beliefs with a brush of islamic faith, the volcano is inextricably linked to the collective's psyche. We sit in Amat Pani's family home for some local grown coffee (kopi tubruk) and tobacco rolled in dried corn leaf (strootjes).

"Historically, the deceased were laid in the house with their heads pointed North, directly toward the sacred Mount Rinjani, before burial."

Our exhaled smoke fills the small hut as we sip our coffee together joined by the other working village men. He continues with how all 90 homes are orientated North toward the volcano to accept guests in traditional manner, along with how they use the volcano's hot springs for healing rituals.

"We go to Mount Rinjani for medicine...for the hot spring. We sleep in hot spring to heal"

He recalled with quiet sincerity, while his earnest depiction of the culture spoke volumes. Absorbed by the spiritual depth of the ground I sat upon, I contemplate where did this once worldwide affection for the living world fall away too?

My scooter for a time machine, I return to the 21st century. Threading through the buzz of Kuta's main strip, the renowned holiday destination flaunts its popularity. With world class waves luring over 3 million board riders annually, the coastal town's bait is well suited. Boarding the 'SMALL FROG' dive vessel, I Seeked refuge under the boat's canopy from the sun I once begged for on Rinjani's chilly summit. With the bow cutting through the glassy water, I talk with a Lombok local, Hendra, a seasoned dive instructor.

"The south is still very healthy and colourful because the water never gets too warm like the Gili islands... the Indian ocean currents keep it cool."

Hendra introduces to me the differences of coral reef health between the south and north of the island. With the water temperature hitting a cool 26 degrees celsius here compared to the Gili Trawangan 31 degrees, the real affects can only been seen from below the blue veil.

Slipping beneath the surface, the sun shimmered down through the water column, piercing through my mask into my wide eyes. My bubbles breached upwards towards the water ripples of the surface. Descending into the abyss, the colours of the coral bloomed an alien world. Jade forests of branching Staghorn coral reached towards the sunlight I fell from, amber Acropora acted as shelter for the skittish fish, unfamiliar of human presence. Shoals of vibrant reef fish went about their daily routines, each playing its part in maintaining the fragile equilibrium of the reef. A Moreal eel curled out the coral bed, grinning its needle teeth.

the mystic gloom of the cave surrounded me while my dive torch shined a spotlight on the walls of red shoal fish that painted the cavern walls like clay pigment parietal art. The chamber burped me out its mouth back into the ever ebbing current of the reef wall. The blue expanse stares back at me as I vary off from the coral festered cliff edge, using my reef hook to hold me against the ceaseless current with Trevally and Grouper effortlessly keeping station nearby.

The boat hull shielded the light above, blocking out the sun from my aching eyes. The chrome ladder glinted in the sun gaze and pulled me from the depths of the unknown mother. Hauling myself aboard and removing my burden of dive gear, I sit on the sunny foredeck with Hiam, my dive guide, to warm up:

"Right now the south has super healthy coral...the water never gets too warm here, mostly like 27, 26 degrees. So that’s why the coral here is still protected...In Pink beach especially, there is not so many divers. There are only three dive centres who dives here at the moment"

Hendra joins us and begins about the fishing industry in Lombok and its importance to the people:

"Many of our guests complain about this, but... this is where the business and income is coming from. Workers travel around the whole island to access the large market."

The Tanjung Luar fish Market, or more locally known as the Shark market. Suppling the majority of Lombok's fish industry, it plays a key role to the foundation of the islands supply chain and economy. After diving with such an abundance of marine life just moments ago, to now see them on the quayside, from one world to another.