Time flies in Bunaken

By Agnes Winarti

Published in Bali Daily-The Jakarta Post   |  Saturday, February 16, 2013

Once you put your face into the water, a bizarre, colorful and somehow tranquil underwater world is ready to captivate you. Indeed, time will be the first thing you’ll forget once you’re under.

“It’s like having your own world down there,” said one visitor, while another fellow snorkel said: “Whenever I’m under the water, I just wish I had gills so that I could stay longer.”

During my recent visit to Manado, the world-famous diving destination of Bunaken was on the must-do list in my travel itinerary.

I am a novice in snorkeling, with very limited underwater experience, only diving to the bottom of the swimming pools and a brief encounter with snorkeling off Phi Phi Island in Thailand.

However, being a novice did not deter me from discovering how addictive this underwater activity can be.

Bunaken, which was declared a national marine park in 1991, is about 45 minutes travel by boat from Manado. Smaller catamaran boats are available for visitors who are reluctant to get wet. However, observing the colorful corals and lively fish through the catamaran’s glass window can do nothing to replace the true experience of being underwater yourself.

The special characteristic of Bunaken’s waters lies in its amazing vertical wall of coral reefs, which in some spotsvary from 40 meters to 1,500 meters deep. More than 390 varieties of coral and 91 species of fish call this vast area their home. It was a jittery, yet delightful, feeling snorkeling above these seemingly bottomless waters.

Despite the scenic colorful corals and playful fish that can still be enjoyed off Bunaken’s most visited shore, Tawara, to the west of the island, boatman Fandy Yusuf, who is a native of the island, estimated that around 50 percent of the corals in the area had been damaged. According to www.bunaken.org, damage of the island’s precious corals was caused by coral mining, inexperienced visitors, boatanchoring, fish bombing, cyanide and trash.

“Luckily, on the eastern side of the island, off Pangalisan Beach, the corals are mostly still preserved, because fewer tourists go there,” he said.

Hearing this, as a cub snorkeler, I was taken up with guilt at being responsible for coral damage myself, because, honestly, I occasionally still stepped on them.

Waiting for their turn: Customers are ready to pay in the diving gear rental shop. For a pair of fins, a mask and snorkel, and the diving gear, each person pays Rp 150,000 (US$15.48). BD/Agnes Winarti

Indeed, snorkeling in Bunaken was a very memorable experience, which gave me a couple of mementos to bring home: Currently recovering scars as I hit my knee on the corals, and the important lesson that I had to better prepare with proper diving training before I jump into any other remarkable dive sites. Being in Bali, Tulamben Beach and Padang Bai Beach in Karangasem regency are surely on my next must-do list.

Time surely flies in Bunaken. What was planned as a one-hour snorkeling trip ended up in a four-hour long session. My friends and I were left behind by the ferry that took us out there in the first place. Nevertheless, an authentic boat hitch-hiking experience back to Manado on a boat rented by a pair of our generous new acquaintances wrapped up my snorkeling adventure in Bunaken with a nice twist.

Nusa Penida people spread wings

Previously a wild bird poacher, Nengah Sudipa is now enjoying what seems to be the unlikeliest chance of repentance as a birdwatcher at the Bali Starling bird sanctuary on his home island, Nusa Penida, just off the southeast of Bali.

Eleven years ago, Nengah was a nine-year-old boy with a skillful flair for trapping birds in the wilds of Nusa Penida with only one intention: sell them for extra cash.

Nengah said, though, this was now a thing of the past for him; he’s no longer interested in making money from wild birds. Since being recruited by the Friends of the National Parks Foundation (FNPF) that initiated the Bali Starling bird sanctuary, Nengah’s tasks include feeding the quarantined birds, monitoring the birds in the wild and taking visitors and newly arrived volunteers on guided tours.

“I would have been rich by now from selling wild Bali Starlings. I can easily catch them if I want to, because I know where they nest. But I just don’t want to anymore,” said Nengah, citing around 15 different spots throughout the island where the birds breed. It is estimated a pair of mature Bali Starlings costs up to Rp 50 million (US$5,450), while the chicks cost Rp 10 million each.

The International Union for the Conservation of Nature and natural resources declared the Bali Starling an endangered species in 1966. The Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species placed the Bali Starling on its critical list in 1978. As early as the 1980s, the government and bird protection organizations worldwide saw the urgency for immediate action to prevent the bird going into extinction. Captive breeding programs were successfully run in Bali, yet, the birds released into the wild were quickly poached and their population continued to plummet. In 2005, FNPF founder, veterinary I Gede Nyoman Bayu Wirayudha, estimated there were fewer than 10 birds left in the wild at the Bali National Park, the bird’s native home.

After thorough studies on the environmental situation between the West Bali National Park and Nusa Penida, as many as 70 first-generation Bali Starlings were released throughout Nusa Penida from 2007. The latest FNPF data shows that there are currently more than 100 starlings living in the wild, some of which have even flown across to the neighboring Nusa Lembongan island.

The Manager of the FNPF base camp in Ped village on Nusa Penida, Si Nyoman Sukarta, acknowledged the challenges faced during the early establishment period on the island.

“At first, it wasn’t easy to introduce the concept of conservation to the Nusa Penida villagers, who had never even heard of the term.” Sukarta recalled the first two years of the program was spent approaching the 40 villages to gain agreement on the creation of an awig-awig (traditional law) to prohibit the capturing of wild birds. The awig-awig stipulates that anyone capturing wild birds on Nusa Penida would have to pay a penalty worth the market price of the birds and release the captured birds into the wild again. They would also be obliged to make a public apology.

“We assured the villagers that the presence of the Bali Starling would eventually grow tourism on the island and thus generate more income for them,” said Sukarta. He stated that in recent years, the island has indeed started welcoming more local and foreign visitors, while some of the villagers have also discovered new sources of income, such as tour-guiding. The six people employed at the FNPF center are also local villagers.

FNPF also embraces the community through various programs, including providing scholarships for students from each of the villages, building water catchments, land reforestation, distribution of free saplings to village communities and promoting the island’s traditional cepuk cloth weaving. In addition, financial rewards worth Rp 1 million are also disbursed to every village that continues to support the conservation project.

“I love this island and I truly believe in this project. It would be very hard if we only supported the wildlife, without involving the community. Protection comes first and foremost from the locals,” said the sanctuary’s self-proclaimed “permanent volunteer” and a retired special-education expert, Mike Appleton, 60, who has called Nusa Penida home for the past year, unwilling to return to his native United Kingdom.

By Agnes Winarti 
Published in Bali Daily/The Jakarta Post, Friday, May 04 2012

Seaweed yields to slump

For the past five years, seaweed harvests on Nusa Penida island have been decreasing due to the extreme changes of climate and the declining quality of the seeds.

“We estimate that this year Nusa Penida will continue to experience reduced production due to the ongoing extreme changes of climate,” head of Bali Marine and Fishery Agency, Made Gunaja, told the Bali Daily on Monday.

Bali has a total of 700 hectares of seaweed farms, 80 percent of which are located in the district of Nusa Penida, which also includes Nusa Lembongan and Nusa Ceningan islands. Last year, the Nusa Penida district produced around 141,863 tons of seaweed, a decline from the production of 152,226 tons in 2007.

The largest seaweed collector in Nusa Penida, Wayan Nurada, 64, recently lamented the production slump. “We have been seeing reduced production over the past five years. We used to buy some 200 tons of seaweed from the farmers of Nusa Penida and Nusa Lembongan every month. But lately we can only buy around 75 tons per month,” said Nurada, who with his wife, Made Alep, has been ruling the seaweed trade in Nusa Penida since its cultivation started in 1984.

Seaweed farmer I Made Raja, who owns a 70-square-meter farm in Banjar Bodong, Ped village, acknowledged that he could only harvest half of the amount he had usually harvested in the past. “Especially in the dry season, the seaweed does not grow normally and much of it dies before being harvested,” said Raja, whose monthly production of 400 kg could shrink to only 200 kg.

Raja, like most other farmers, prefers to replant the buds from his own crop because buying new seaweed seedlings costs too much. A knot of spinosum seed costs Rp 5,000 (US 0.5 cents), while a knot of katoni seed is tagged at Rp 15,000. “For a 70-square-meter plot, I would have to buy 200 knots. I can’t afford that,” said Raja, who earns between Rp 500,000 and Rp 800,000 a month.

Gunaja pointed out that the practice had resulted in a reduced quality in the harvest saying, “The seaweed has become vulnerable to disease and to extreme changes of weather.”

“We hope that the farmers will keep in mind a more sustainable practice of cultivation through planting new seedlings,” said Gunaja, expecting that farmers would leave one third of their farming plots in Nusa Penida to specifically cultivate seedlings. The agency last year initiated seedling cultivation at a smaller seaweed farm in Kuta.

Monitoring the quality of water in the coastal area where all the seaweed farms are located is also necessary, according to environmental observer I Wayan Suarna, the former director of the environmental research center of Udayana University in Denpasar. “There should be a routine monitoring of the quality of water in the region, to measure the amount of phosphates and nitrates, sedimentation and pollution, all of which may disrupt the growth of seaweed,” said Suarna. Founder of local environmental NGO, the Wisnu Foundation, I Made Suarnatha, also warned of escalating levels of chlorine that may pollute the water surrounding the three islands, due to the rapid growth of tourism, especially in the neighboring Nusa Lembongan and Nusa Ceningan.

In addition to the issues of climate change and seed cultivation, Nusa Penida seaweed farmers have for decades been facing a problematic situation concerning the unstable price of their crops. The agency’s head of crop processing and marketing division, Agung Sanjaya, acknowledged, “It’s truly difficult for us to interfere in the established ‘godfather-like’ seaweed trading system in Nusa Penida.”

“However, we will try to help strengthen the farmers associations by providing capital for the farmers through loans without collateral and subsidizing the seedling price. But that also remains difficult to implement because farmers prefer to get quick funds from the moneylenders,” said Sanjaya.

By Agnes Winarti 
Published in Bali Daily/The Jakarta Post Tuesday, May 01 2012

Seaweed farmers bear the ebb-and-flow of price and tides

Not only dealing with nature’s tidal ebb and flow, the tough seaweed farmers of Nusa Penida Island, southeast of Bali, have been putting up with the unpredictable price of their harvests for decades.

A resident of the coastline of Nusa Penida, 73-year-old Wayan Repung, has been harvesting seaweed for the past 30 years, and, until today, he continues doing so alongside his wife, Ketut Kanthi.

“Our age should have forced us to stop working, yet the situation has made us do otherwise,” bare-chested grandpa Repung smiled radiantly despite the hardships showing off his toothless gums, as he dried his seaweed harvest under the scorching heat of the sun one afternoon near his home in Suana village.

Sunset chore: A Nusa Penida seaweed farmer repairs the net that secures her plants when the tide ebbs. In the background is Mt. Agung, the island’s holiest mountain. BD/Agung Parameswara



As their earnings are simply enough for one day’s meals, 60-year-old Kanthi added, “How can we stop working if our stomachs are empty?” The couple could only ensure that their two now-adult children completed junior high school as higher education was just too expensive to pay for from the seaweed harvests alone.

Just like the couple, dadong (grandma) Ni Nengah Lagri, a resident of banjar Bodong in Ped village, who is fondly called the Iron Grannie by her neighbors, keeps returning to the sea as the tide recedes during harvest time. “I’ve just harvested this morning at 4 a.m.,” said the hunch-backed grannie, who has no idea of her actual age.

Over the past decades, the dozens of kilometers of seaweed farms — beginning at Toya Pakeh village and ending at Suana village along the western to eastern coastline of the secluded Nusa Penida — have served as the backbone revenue generator for the villagers, yet to some extent, it is failing to improve their basic quality of life.

“Seaweed prices have always changed drastically. Although seaweed farming is the main economic activity on this island, we can never count on it alone,” said Nyoman Sukarta, a seaweed farmer for eight years, who sent two of his four children through university. He could only achieve this because he also earns an income from his cattle and a 16-hectare coconut tree farm.

Spinosum (eucheuma spinosum) and katoni (eucheuma cottonii) are the two most sought after seaweed types on the island.

In a banjar (local neighborhood organization) owned by farmer Nyoman Carti, spinosum fetches Rp 4,200 per kilogram, while katoni brings in Rp 7,000 per kg. “Last year, katoni went up to Rp 12,000 per kg,” said Carti.

All the farmers pointed out that their hardships were due to the fact that they have no say in determining the selling price, as all prices are controlled by the collectors and tengkulak (middlemen), who are often also loan sharks. When facing cash shortages, farmers borrow money from the tengkulak because the island’s only Village Cooperative Unit (KUD) does not function, thus the entangled situation weakens the farmers’ bargaining position.

Nusa Penida’s seaweed farming was initiated in 1984 by the Jungutbatu villagers of the neighboring Nusa Lembongan Island after seeds were distributed there by some seaweed businesspeople from Surabaya, recalled Made Alep, the largest seaweed collector in Nusa Penida who owns a 300-ton capacity warehouse in banjar Batumulapan in Suana village.

“After the first harvests in Lembongan were purchased by the businessmen, the news of how seaweed could provide quick cash spread fast among villagers here. Within that same year, the entire Nusa Penida coastline, from east to west, turned into seaweed farms,” added Wayan Nurada, Alep’s husband. Prior to the emergence of seaweed farming, villagers of the arid Nusa Penida mostly earned irregular incomes from selling cattle and farming corn, cassava and other harvests that depend heavily on the rainy season.

Most of the seaweed harvests of Nusa Penida and Nusa Lembongan are purchased by the husband-and-wife team of Alep and Nurada, who have dominated the seaweed trading business since 1984. They sell hundreds of tons of seaweed on a monthly basis to traders in Surabaya and Jakarta that export the processed harvests to China, Japan, France and the United States. Spinosum seaweed is an ingredient used in cooking in China, while katoni is processed into seaweed flour for various industries, including cosmetics, medicine and food.

Alep acknowledged that competition is tightening nowadays due to a rise in other local collectors who trade with businesses in Jakarta and Surabaya after the opening of the ferry port in Mentigi-Kutampi.

Nurada blamed the uncertain demand from Surabaya and Jakarta, as well as the low quality of harvests, as the main cause of the fluctuating prices. “We pay a high price only if the harvests have been dried correctly, resulting in the ideal 24 percent water content. We have received harvests that are insufficiently dried and sometimes even mixed with trash,” said Nurada. Buying wet harvests would be expensive, because after his workers dried the seaweed the remaining volume would shrink up to 45 percent.

Despite having applied the correct harvest-drying procedure to reach the expected export quality, farmers said they still had to put up with drastic price fluctuations. “Five years ago, we dried the harvests correctly, but the prices remained unsteady. So now, farmers just sell the harvests whenever the price is seen to be suitable,” said Sukarta.

“The trade politics of seaweed here is fierce. We need the presence of stronger investors to compete against this couple that have been monopolizing the trade here,” said another Nusa Penida resident Wayan Suryanta, who quit farming seaweed to work for the island’s Bali Starling bird sanctuary.

Nowadays, many of the seaweed farmers are the elderly, while younger residents prefer to search for work in the city of Denpasar or transmigrate to Sumbawa or Sumatra.

By Agnes Winarti 
Photograph by Agung Parameswara 
Published in Bali Daily/The Jakarta Post Monday, April 30 2012