The Slow Blue Ferry

By Priyo, Sea Kayak Guide.

Someone is knocking on your ferry cabin door, and it’s just 6:30 AM. You had an excellent sleep that you thought was too short, but then you counted, and it turns out it was a good 7 hours of sleep. The one knocking on your door must be your fully professional yet half-crazy sea kayak guide making sure you don’t miss what’s happening outside. Ah, yes, you remembered the guy said something about an amazing entrance scenery into the Misool island chain last night when you hung out a bit on the open area of the ferry. So, you wipe the sleep away from your face and go out of the cabin. You walk along the railing to the front part of the deck. And there it is—the amazing chain of islands on the Southeast of Misool. The karst wonder stretches from East to West like a protruding marine wall in green, grey, and beige colors. On the west end of the line lies the vast Misool Island itself, brooding under the morning sky, all green and mysterious. You swear you see two or three dolphins in the glassy sea. When the ferry gets through the line of the small islands, you can observe the face of each of these islands. They are like giants. Limestone giants, looking back at you through their thousands of years of experience living with the air and the salt. Little fishes lurking underneath remind you that underneath these giants are all the celebrated megadiversity of marine life. And after passing the line of the small islands, the so-called slow ferry carries on the direction of the port of Yellu. Getting closer to Yellu, and you look back on the island chain like your entering a world inside a wall, cut off from the hum of the normal, mortal world, into a mysterious paradise where humans are scarce. It is a wonderful feeling that you wish this slow ferry goes even slower on that entrance scenery from Sorong to Misool.

 

Before the Covid pandemic, there used to be a fast ferry from Sorong to Misool and back three times a week. This was the ‘quick’ public transport to this furthest located Raja Ampat Island, and it was relatively comfortable too. It was a medium-sized ferry, only two levels, mostly white with red stripes around the deck. So, you’d leave Sorong at around 10 am, sit on properly cushioned seats inside a room with AC and a common TV, or go to the deck once in a while to catch some breeze, and arrive about 2 to 3 pm at Misool. Because this ferry ran three times a week, our kayak trips had several options that suited the timetable of this ferry service.

 

But this boat is not running anymore after the pandemic, or at least at the time of this writing. Instead of that, now we have to go with the slow ferry that takes twice the time and runs only once out from Sorong and once back to Sorong in a week. When I figured out about this situation, I remembered exclaiming; blue blistering barnacles!! Our kayak trips will be ruined! An 8-hour ferry trip?? Are you kidding me?? And only once a week??

It is absolutely a major pain in the stern to adjust our kayak trip schedules to a once-a-week ferry timetable. But we just had to deal with it, and the changing of our itinerary had been ultra annoying, especially because many had already booked the old itinerary.

 

The first time I had to go with that ferry, that ship, called The Fajar Indah, looks like a light blue floating working-class apartment. Or even a factory. It’s much taller than the fast ferry. She looks like an old woman desperately looking younger. But there’s something about her that looks assuring, experienced, and safe. And after I went with her, here’s my verdict and description:

For the Fajar Indah ferry experience of the trip going into Misool itself, well, it actually got, uhm, …better! I mean, really, folks, I’m not being a desperate salesman on this. Nor am I deluding myself to suit reality. The experience of getting on the ferry on a balmy evening (instead of on a merciless, blazing, Papuan daylight) is actually pleasant.

The slow ferry schedule of going out from Sorong is at 10 PM. That’s a 10 PM rubber time, as we say in Indonesia. This means we are able to have a relaxed and hearty dinner of grilled fishes and fried shrimps and sweet-sour sauced squids and fruits long before we had to carry our bags to the port. When we are in the port, since it’s public transport, of course, we join the crowd of Sorongians or Misoolians with their families and cargo. Having had the experience of boarding a ferry at noon, I can assure you, the hustle and bustle in the evening boarding is mild-mannered; everyone seems to have a better temper when they’re not scorched alive by the sun. But then Eastern Indonesians in general, and Sorong Papuans are basically warm and kindly people anyway, it’s just that in hectic times they tend shout every single word. So, you go into the ferry from the door on the bottom, go through a room usually filled with Misool-bound building materials. Here, sometimes you find funny things; motorcycles, for example. I mean, imagining what motorcycles will be able to do in little sandy islands and plank-based villages is rather amusing.

You then go up to the second level. The second level is common areas with bunk beds that belong to whoever sits on it first or puts on top of it a big fat sack of rice or giant bananas or something like that. Watch your steps, as we Indonesians like to sit on the floor; you don’t want to step on some old lady’s toes; that’s going to get you jinxed! The kindly captain forbids farm animals on board, thank God. So, there’s no chance of stepping on goat or chicken poo. But sometimes, the captain forgets to forbid idiots on board, so be patient and keep smiling if someone is blocking your way out of sheer stupidity.

And then you go up to the third level. This is where the private cabins are. The cabins are an adorable size with either AC or fans to keep you comfortable and electric plugs to keep your devices charged. Each cabin has a bunk bed for two adult-sized persons. Some rooms are as sober as a cucumber with white sheets, white walls, perfectly working AC, and a water gallon. Some other rooms, though, are batsh*t crazy with Spongebob bed sheets, Doraemon wallpapers, a little grotesque mirror ball hanging like nobody’s business, and a skull-shaped sound speaker that looks suspicious. Some rooms smell like a grandmother, some smell like a material store, and some rooms smell of unrequited love. My favorite room is the one with make-believe brick walls, a bulb that looks two hundred years old, a bed wrapped in Anna & Elsa sheets, and a broken fan but getting AC leaks from the neighboring cabin.

 

 

After we secure our cabins and store our luggage safely in, we usually get close to getting sleepy as all the sweet-and-sour squid dishes from dinner started to get digested by our stomachs. But usually, we want to just walk around the deck on the third level to catch a breeze and watch the port at night. This moment is also pleasant. Saying hi to our cabin neighbors, sometimes also fellow travelers. Sometimes we can say hi to the captain, the kind old Mr. Petrus. The thing that always amuses me is how the captain and all the crews don’t wear any uniforms whatsoever. They wear t-shirts, shorts, and sandals like there’s an eternal holiday on Earth. This initially annoys me as I can’t make out who’s in charge of things. Then I started to admire them as I figured out that they do that on purpose. It’s camouflage, so it’s hard when someone wants to complain about any service of the ships. My God, the genius of that! Otherwise, the crew are friendly and helpful once you figure out which ones are they. They are pleasant to hang around with when the ships finally start to move on rubber 10 pm (that can stretch up to 11.30), and many of us can just hang around the open part of the deck, gazing at stars or the moon. And when the sleepiness becomes unbearable, each of us can go inside our cute little rooms and doze off. But before you do that, I or any other of Millekul’s professional yet crazy guides will tell you that you wouldn’t want to miss the morning scenery when we will enter Misool chain of Islands. And you will say ‘For sure!’.