TRAVEL

By WAYNE JOHNSON

One hundred twenty seven years after an eruption tore Krakatoa island apart, a child has emerged — blusterous yet charming.

THE name Krakatoa became synonymous with destruction and the force of nature after an eruption in 1883 which killed more than 100,000 people. It’s on record as being the loudest explosion ever.

And the power it generated blew a whole island into three separate pieces, altered the world’s climate for a few years and depopulated the coastlines of Java and Sumatra for generations. For many years afterwards, the seas in the Sunda Straits remained calm, but now — as they say in the movies — “It’s back”.

A new volcanic island, Anak Krakatoa (Child of Krakatoa), has been rapidly emerging from the ocean for the last 75 years in the centre of the old caldera. It now broods menacingly over the sea with smoke drifting up from its summit and the occasional angry outpouring of rock or molten lava.

This active new arrival is surrounded by the three islands which are the remains of the original Krakatoa before its spectacular demise. These are now covered in lush greenery in sharp contrast to their new ash-coloured neighbour. The Krakatoa islands are accessible by boat from the west Java resort towns of Carita and Anyer, although they tend to be more popular with foreign visitors than Indonesians.

There are various ways to get to them, ranging from established tour operators with modern boats fitted with safety equipment to fishing boats that can be hired. The cost varies considerably between the two options but the tour operators will take you there in 90 minutes (as opposed to five hours in a fishing boat), and they have radios and life jackets in case things go wrong.

To enjoy the experience in fine weather and to avoid rough seas and potential disaster, you would do well to visit during the dry season between April and October. Then the seas are calm and chances of rain in the morning are minimal. It also allows you, if you are lucky, to catch a glimpse of dolphins and flying fish leaping in and out of the water.

It’s an eerie experience when you do finally land on Anak Krakatoa, an active volcano that is still emerging from the sea. There is a Jurassic Park feel to it, what with giant insects populating the dense vegetation that crowds the island’s lower reaches, framing the bare, scorched slopes looming above.

Although the island is deserted, there is a sign at the small landing area welcoming visitors to Krakatoa National Park, along with information and diagrams about the islands before and after the cataclysmic eruption of 1883.

We also found other less welcoming signs of human presence in the discarded plastic boxes and coke cans that littered the area around the sign.

However, these do not detract from the other-worldly feel of the place.

Walking through this part is relatively easy though, as the lava flows from the caldera have created what looks like well-maintained, wide asphalt roads, cutting through the forest to the sea. These wide boulevards lead to the steep slopes of Krakatoa. But the initial ascent up a steep ridge is often enough to dissuade people from attempting to climb the whole peak. Under a fierce Indonesian sun, this can test the endurance of even the fittest hiker as the incline is steep and there is no cover.

There is also the slight element of fear as you look around at the huge boulders strewn all around — obviously spewed from the crater — and start listening or straining your eyes for any sign of increased activity. This is no idle threat. In the past, tourists who have ignored warnings and attempted to climb to the peak when it was active have been killed by hot rocks raining down on them.

At the top of the ridge, the steep conical slopes leading to the caldera loom ahead, but scrupulous tourist operators will not allow you to attempt to climb this part. The slopes are scarred with yellow sulphur, and hot steam spurts menacingly from fissures in the surface.

For me, the ridge was far enough from which to admire the active volcano and also for views of the other four islands that make up the archipelago. The heat of the day, though, was overpowering (be careful to bring plenty of sunblock and a hat), and I was happy to begin the descent back to the boat.

It was then a short boat journey to one of the larger forested islands where lunch was served on the beach. Despite the total absence of other people during my visit, the animals here seemed used to human encounters. A large monitor lizard was not shy to join our party when it smelt cooked chicken. Although it was thrown a few scraps, this did not do the trick as later we saw it swimming in the sea looking for fish.

The area chosen for snorkelling did not seem promising as it was very close to the shore and the sea was a very dark green. However, I was more than pleasantly surprised when I plunged in and saw the large numbers of multi-coloured coral and shoals of purple and blue fish and larger parrot fish.

It was a total shock to discover how quickly the coral shelf ended and turned into a sheer drop hundreds of feet down into blue nothing. With images of sharks, or some other creature from the deep surfacing from below assailing me, I quickly retreated to the safety of the shallow coral reef.

It was a wrench to finally leave this iconic and surprisingly peaceful place, but the rain clouds were gathering in the distance and I had had enough adventure for one day without being battered by high waves and strong winds on the way back to Java.