Violi - Made Karya's Story (First published in a Balinese newspaper)

 On what would prove to be only the second day of his ordeal, Made Karya clung to the bottom of his upturned boat.  Although he knew that all along the coast there would be other fishermen out searching for him, anxious to learn why he had not returned, it gave him little comfort.  In seas this rough, and with squalls of rain periodically cutting visibility to only a few yards, the chances of rescue were small indeed – and ever diminishing as time passed.  Repeatedly Made’s thoughts turned to his wife and children, to their simple home in the hills, to the familiar landmarks he knew so well, now lost from view but preserved in every detail in his mariner’s memory.

 Nowhere is Bali's geological history more starkly displayed than around her remote eastern shores.  Here, tongues of volcanic debris reach down into the ocean in a series of radiating ridges, separated by steep-sided valleys.  Between the rocky headlands lie crescent bays, each with its narrow beach of black sand.

 In the Dry Season this is a brown and barren land, the precipitous hillsides a profusion of giant volcanic boulders, among which roam occasional goats, each a safety-net against a family’s financial misfortune.  But while Europe lies locked in the grip of winter, southwest monsoon winds bring torrential rain that briefly cloak the jagged slopes in a soft, transient mantle of verdant green.  But unlike other parts of Bali, which remain lush throughout the year, these valleys and hillsides can support, and then only briefly, subsistance agriculture - limited crops of maize and tapioca, with one small planting of rice each year in a few  favored locations.

 Yet each of the bays along this wild and beautiful coast supports a small village, an isolated community that depends not on agriculture for its continued existence, but upon the bounty of the sea.  Although the Balinese in general fear the ocean as an abode of demons and other malignant unseen forces, nature has forced these inhabitants to become fishermen. 

 Generations of necessity have bred a fine tradition of boat-building and seamanship.  Fearless and resourceful, these fishermen must navigate the deep waters of the Lombok Strait in all weather, by both day and night in support of their families.  But inevitably, from time to time the fates are cruel and disaster strikes.

 It was long before dawn on Saturday 21 January 2006 that Made Karya set out  from the simple hut high up in the hills that he shared with his wife and two small daughters.  It was a moonless night, and the rocky, narrow, twisting trail down to the beach at Lipah was almost invisible in the darkness - but Made had followed it successfully since childhood.

 After days of stormy weather sweeping across the Strait,  line after line of heavy breakers pounded the  beach, but with mouths to feed, Made and his companions could not afford to miss a day of fishing.   Helping each other to carry the boats down the beach and into the surf, they set off into the darkness in search of  tuna, barracuda and mackrel.

 Too young and too poor to yet have a boat of his own, Made was obliged to borrow the boat of his kinsman Nyoman Musti.  Violi was a typical fishing prahu, laboriously fashioned from a single solid log carried down from the high forest, and lovingly carved over several months of protracted labor.  Her freeboad was, as convention demanded, increased by a few inches through the addition of a narow strake along the top of the hull.  Once finished she was coated with layer upon layer of gleaming white paint, her name proudly inscribed on the bow.  Massive bamboo outriggers, incorporating generations of hard-earned nautical experience extended to each side and kept her stable as she skimmed the waves, driven by the wind filling her brightly colored lateen sail.   A long-tailed outboard motor, the sole concession to modernity, helped power the craft away from the shore, and bring her home when becalmed.

 By eight o'clock Made was heading back to Lipah beach with a modest catch of twenty-two fish,  no other boats within sight, when disaster struck.  Without warning a massive wave suddenly loomed out of the haze and engulfed Violi -  a wave of such exceptional size and ferocity that the small craft was completely overturned.  It is difficult to imagine a wave so powerful, for prahus are remarkably stable and seaworthy craft.

 Despite a serious gash in his leg and numerous smaller lacerations, Made managed to clamber onto the bottom of his upturned boat, conscious that the blood  pouring from his wound might attract the attention of sharks.   His first act was to lash himself to the hull, lest he be swept off by another wave into the turbulent waters.

 Slowly, as the hours passed and darkness engulfed him, Made began to contemplate the gravity of his situation.  The longer he remainerd at sea, the less chance he had of being rescued by friends from Lipah, for the Strait is swept by strong currents that would be carrying him ever further away.  Without food or water, it was a dismal prospect.

 The following dawn saw no improvement in the weather, and Made had no option but to continue clinging on, lashed to the bottom of his upturned boat.  As the hours dragged by, thirst and hunger began to take their toll.  Only the occasional squall of rain brought a few drops of relief as he turned his head skywards and opened his swollen lips.  Likewise followed the third day.

 Then during the night the weather gradually began to improve and as dawn broke on the fourth day the clouds parted, bringing sunshine to a calm sea.  With instincts  born of generations of sailors, Made realized he had but one option if he were to survive the journey on which the currents were propelling him.  Subjugating pain and exhaustion, he focussed his dwindling strength on the monumental task of righting Violi.

 The great bamboo outriggers that normally provided stability and seaworthiness, now proved a major impediment.   Only by dismantelling at least one outrigger could there be any hope of turning Violi  the right way up.  Summoning hidden reserves of strength and determination Made eventually succeeded in turning her over and re-attaching the badly damaged float, making her stable once more should the weather worsen again.   Exhusted, he collapsed into the narrow confines of Violi's  hull.

 But one further call upon his weakened body still remained.  Upon righting Violi , Made saw to his dismay that the outboard motor was missing, carried away by the force of the wave.  Even though there was no question that the motor might work, it represented a financial investment of enormous value in so impoverished a community.  It had to be saved at all costs.  Although the motor no longer rested in its appointed place, it was not completely lost, for it now dangled unceremoniously ten feet beneath the boat on a stout nylon safety line, prudently attached  in case of of mishap.  Slowly, painfully, the heavy motor was dragged back on board.

 The appearance of a large freighter bearing down on him brought renewed hopes of rescue, but despite frantic waving, the boat continued on its way, either unseeing or uncaring, leaving behind a sense of profound dismay and foreboding.

 Further rain during the night brought slight relief to Made's now intolerable thirst.  The next day a lone coconut appeared near the boat, carried beside him on the current.  Summoning his strength once again, Made dived overboard to retrieve the prize, only with difficulty struggling back on board.  However, he lacked any tools to open the coconut, which lay in the boat silently mocking him.  Suddenly he noticed a sharp spike of wood, part of the shattered rudder assembly.  The battered remains of this piece of wood stand in silent testimony to the ferocity with which Made finally gained entry. 

 Another night passed, and it was now the fifth day of his ordeal.   Made, dehydrated, injured, sunburnt, lay in the bottom of his boat, drifting in and out of consciousness, unaware that fate was finally about to intervene on his behalf.  The ocean currents that had carried him away from Bali, leaving behind a grieving family, now brought him unknowing close to the island of Sumbawa, for he had been carried past Lombok, drifting on an unplanned voyage of some 200 nautical miles.

 Local Sumbawan fishermen in Wanagiri, quick to notice from the shore that all was not well on board the small craft that now appeared over the horizon, set out to render assistance.   After immediate first aid - a little rice and water - Made was rushed to hospital   Not long afterwards police telephoned their counterparts on Bali, who quickly carried the glad news to the disbelieveing family grieving in Lipah.

 News of Made’s miraculous survival was greeted joyfully with appropriate offerings and ceremonies, but there still remained the question of how to bring Made and Violi back to Lipah.  Nyoman, Violi’s owner, had spent several days and nights searching the wild waters, and was both ill and exhausted.   Nevertheless, it fell to him to make the arrangements.  Money must be found for two people to travel to Sumbawa, one to accompany Made and the other to bring back the boat.  It would also be necessary to borrow an outboard motor for the journey and raise money to cover the inescapable expenses of such a trip..

 The following day, accompanied by Made Cheper, Nyoman set off.   First by truck to the ferry terminal at Padangbai, and thence on to Sumbawa.  Made’s hospital bill was generously covered by a visitor from Holland, who had heard about his situation.  Once out of hospital, Nyoman took Made in stages by public transportation to the adjacent island of Lombok, and thence out to the Gili islands, a popular tourist destination lying off the northwest coast.   Here they had arranged to  meet up with Made Cheper, who was bringing back the crippled Violi -  journey that would take over 14 hours to complete.

 Next morning the three of them set off in Violi for the final leg of the homeward journey.  It took a bare five hours to cross the Lombok Strait back to Lipah, where a joyful crowed gathered on the beach for a rapturous reunion of Made with his family and friends.

 Here the story should end, but there remains a legacy of unfinished business, a residue of unresolved consequences from Made’s epic voyage.  Made himself remains injured and in shock.  It will be some time before he can work again to feed his family.  For Nyoman the situation is no better.  It will be several weeks before Violi herself can be repaired and re-rigged with new sail and new outriggers, able once more to roam the seas for fish.  Likewise it will take time for the outboard motor to be rebuilt, cleansed of the effects of saltwater immersion.  And then there is the cost of the journey of recovery to Sumbawa.

 The Bali Children’s Project (www.balichildrensproject.org) , which has had close ties to Nyoman and his family for many years, is coordinating an appeal to help the families of both Nyoman and Made recover from the impact of this drama.  Any money that can be spared will be greatly appreciated.