I was running flat out. So was my wife. And our guide wasn’t far behind, all of us heading for the ladder to a rough-hewn timber platform a few yards high. Chasing us was a beast that time forgot to extinguish–a 9-foot-long, hungry, carnivorous Komodo dragon that would have liked us to come over for dinner — his!
The Indonesians call the Komodo dragon `ora’.These creatures, 4,500 of which live on the Indonesian island of Komodo and three adjoining islands, are actually the world’s largest lizards, but look like the last sizable cousins of the dinosaurs. One full-grown adult ora had seemed to be dozing in the sun when we first saw it. Excited, I had merely asked the guide if we could see the dragon in action so we could take a few pictures. Big mistake.
The Komodo dragon is an impressive beast. Its scaly battle-scarred skin looked so tough that it might be used to protect an army tank. The massive feet had large extended claws that appeared to be lethal even in repose, and I had been foolhardy enough to ask to unrepose them.
Had I been informed earlier that an ora can outrun any human and is, for a short distance, as fast as a cheetah, I would certainly have had second thoughts. But fools rush in where angels fear to tread, and that led to this unforgettable experience and comic-opera chase.
When we had arrived at the national park on Rinca, an island adjacent to Komodo that is also a major habitat of the ora, we had mentioned to our guide that we wanted to get some good action photos of this huge carnivorous lizard.
The problem with this is that a Komodo dragon hunts only once every few days, and when it kills a deer, water buffalo, boar or the like, it will gorge itself and then show no interest in food for the next few days. The other problem is that one can never tell when a dragon has last dined.
Our guide explained that the ora are often a little lethargic in the mornings, especially if they have hunted and eaten fairly recently. In that case they just flop down in the sun or under a tree, are relatively non-aggressive and quietly watch humans walk by. However, he said that in his experience he had never met an ora that could resist a sizable, fresh fish. So if we wanted to take pictures of one of these monsters moving, the best thing to do was for him to bring along two fish, which he could obtain from a local fisherman. Little did we know that we would get our pictures, but would, in the process, send our adrenaline levels soaring through the roof.
For 20 minutes we walked inland without encountering any Komodo dragons, but then noticed that our guide had slowed down. “We often find oras here,” he said, “especially the old ones that have a longer memory. For some years after the park was opened, we used to hang a freshly hunted deer from one of these trees. As soon as they got scent of this, the ora would come here from all around and tear the deer to pieces till there was not even a hoof left. Subsequently, naturalists found that these animals were becoming dependent on being fed by us. In the process they lost their ability and will to hunt, so we stopped the practice. A few of the oldest and largest still keep coming back in the hope of getting an easy meal.”
We turned the corner and saw a clearing with a rough-hewn wooden platform near some trees. A wooden ladder was built into one end of the structure. And sunning itself some 100 feet from the platform was a large Komodo dragon, seemingly asleep. A second look revealed a half-open eye, watching every move we made. It looked terribly ungainly. Its feet were flopping out in a “palms up” position that made it look as if the huge animal would take ages to get up, and the look on its face indicated that it had no intention of doing so. “Don’t let that fool you,” whispered the ranger. “If the ora has eaten in the last day or so, you probably wouldn’t see it move without the fish I have. But my bet is that he won’t be able to resist it”.
With that he reached into the canvas bag slung over his shoulder, pulling out the fish which, to our surprise, still gave a flap as he held it by the tail. He threw it to the side so that it landed some 50 feet from the seemingly slumbering dragon.
The sleepy dragon went through an instant metamorphosis into a lightning-fast monster from a science-fiction movie, its long clawed feet moving it across the ground at Olympic-record speed. On reaching the fish, the dragon unhinged its jaws to take the whole fish in one gulp and then stood still, surprisingly high on its legs.
But now its appetite was aroused. This big fellow, it seemed, had not eaten for days and the fish had titillated its taste buds. Now he was moving his head from side to side, making a noise like a balloon being deflated. Eyes glaring, it started to move its long forked yellow tongue in and out of its mouth with mesmerizing speed. It was looking for more food. And all it could see was us.
“He uses that tongue like a finely tuned nose,” the ranger said. “It contains his sense of smell as well as taste–and it’s deadly accurate. He’s picked up the scent of the other fish in my bag.”
Mentally wishing that I had a Learjet parked nearby, I awaited instructions. “There’s a wooden platform behind us that the ora cannot climb. Slowly head for that, and the moment I’ve thrown the second fish, run for it and get up there quickly. I’ll be right behind you.”
Realizing that the fish smell was coming from our group, our dragon had now stopped waving its head from side to side and had turned directly toward us. If we were to remain there, we would surely be the main course that follows the fish appetizer.
We slowly started to back off and carefully watched for the moment when our guide quickly pulled the second fish out of his bag, sending it over in a large arc. The dragon pounced on the fish and enveloped it in those powerful jaws. That’s when we made our run to the platform.
Luckily this dragon was greedy enough to go for the fish first, and not aggressive enough to get up to full speed. For some time it stayed there in the hope that we would come down off that ladder and become the equivalent of a Komodo dragon’s Big Mac.
After half an hour of standing at the base of the platform, flicking its enormously long, forked tongue, glaring at us and occasionally hissing and exhaling clouds of breath that smelled foul enough to scour barnacles off a submarine, it decided to look elsewhere for lunch and lumbered off into the rough forest that circled the clearing.
Although we subsequently saw many more dragons during our visit to this island and to Komodo proper, none of those we later encountered were as aggressive as this first one. By then we had also become a little wiser and did not make the mistake of arousing their appetites. This had certainly been Adventure travel with a capital “A.”
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IF YOU GO
GETTING THERE
Most trips to the Komodo islands depart from Bali. From Chicago, there are many options to the Denpasar (Bali) airport, with fares starting at about $2,200. Some package tours to Bali can cut that price, sometimes by half.
TRIPS AND TOURS
The best and most luxurious trip is with Amanresorts and their traditional Indonesian trading boat, the Silolona. They offer a minimum three-night deluxe trip for from $2,100 (double cabin) to $3,600 (king suite); rates are the same for single or double. Air fare plus boat transfers from Denpasar to the Amanwana resort, from where the boat leaves, is $300 round-trip. For further details, e-mail: info@amanresorts.com or amanwana@amanresorts.com.
Other budget-priced trips from Bali start at $350 for two nights per person (double occupancy), but are quite basic by comparison. For further details, check www.komodotours.com
— W.G.
