A 2-hour boatride from Sorong, capital of the province of West Papua, Indonesia and we arrive in the Dampier Strait under a domed cerulean sky fringed with tumbling grey and white cumulus clouds. The sea absorbs, digests and mirrors the intense blue; we pass a pod of dolphins; and flying-fish leap in slow-mo diagonals from the boat’s wake. Raja-Ampat is an archipelago — 1500 green-forested hills rising out of the ocean with plant species numbering in the thousands, exotic plumed birds, marsupials, monitor lizards and huge butterflies; less than 1% of the land is inhabited by Melanesian tribes, Indonesian transmigrants and tourists. You must dive to find paradise sometimes — the richest reef systems in the world are here
Under-sea gardens sprawl in these isles; pastoral patches of coral on the sandy ocean floor, climbing gentle slopes. Mioskon, Blue Magic, Citrus Ridge, Friwen, Lao Lao… the names drip technicolor dreams. Reefs of twisting shapes, merging patterns, light and colors that fade, deepen and explode depending on the day, the current and the tide — or should we say the sun, the wind and the moon.
We’re diving a breathtakingly beautiful jetty at the village of Sawandarek — the long wooden pillars of the dock run deep, sprouting bouquets of soft corals in lilacs, burnt oranges and dull reds. Sunbeams angle in from above, like light through blue-stained windows of some undersea church. A choir of smartly pressed snappers sways gently. Dark robed unicornfish pass solemnly through the high pillars on their way to the pulpit near where an organ of anemone sits, played gently by clownfish.
There are residents in this heavenly neighbourhood — flat curious batfish, the color of tarnished silver, that accompany you chattily; their gothic long-winged juveniles swim at the edge of sight. A school of polka-dotted fish with big luscious sunshine lips and blonde fins smile seductively. There are oggling big-eye squirrelfish, buck-toothed parrotfish and scalpel-tailed surgeonfish in the water. Bannerfish stream by, and a huge grouper chews thoughtfully in a corner.
Behind the towering jetty, the shallows have teeming communities — thousands of fish housed in Gaudi-esque buildings of sun-glazed coral spreading to the shore. Close by, a Hawksbill turtle scuttles up a meal, and two elegant black-tipped sharks make passing appearances. Nut-brown Sawandarek children play games in the water, ducking down into the world at their feet. There are haloes of drops in their curly sun-bleached hair. Everywhere you look is beautiful.
I wake from a nap on a bouncy speedboat as Sawandarek mists away. The wistful strains of “Lost on You” echo out of my headphones. It’s cool and gloomy as the buffeting wind whips by; clouds hang low over the dark gunmetal sea. On a distant hilly island I can see the two-tone curtain of a cloud dissolving in rain; hidden lightening flashes in another cloud; and as if on cue, a serendipitous flying fish leaps out of the boat’s wake. I’ll miss this part of the world when the dream is over.