Explore Raja Ampat Papua

I am sitting in a small, weather-beaten motorboat, an inch of salt water lapping at my feet. My suitcase is wrapped in an old tarpaulin. My only companion is Frendy, the boatman. He doesn’t speak English.

We met an hour ago at a ferry port. After 30 hours of travelling, three planes and a boat, I was relieved when he approached me on the dock and said my name. Somebody was expecting me. Frendy’s boat is the last leg of my journey. He knows the route well and weaves his way between coral beds. When I look into the clear blue I see shoals of glittering fish and – aaah! – a single sleek silver manta ray pass beneath me. It makes me hopeful that this place will be all I want it to be.

I am in Raja Ampat, the least developed and easternmost islands of Indonesia. They lie in the province of papua resort, the western half of New Guinea, and are made up of 9.8 million acres of sparsely populated land and sea. Fifteen hundred tiny islands, woven with thick jungle and bathed in pellucid water. Paradise.

My ultimate destination is Pulau Gam. ‘The last wild place’, the advertising says. As the boat nears the island, I can see a stretch of white sand lined with palm trees and behind it, thick forest. The beach is not manicured. It is littered with driftwood and fallen coconuts, like a castaway’s island. There are no sun loungers or umbrellas. A discreet scattering of traditional thatched buildings hide among the trees. A woman is waiting on the beach to receive me – Lenny, my host.

Wild places like this do not come with five-star accommodation. Or four-star for that matter. The region has a small handful of resorts. Each on a different island – each eye-wateringly expensive for what they offer (no air conditioning, sometimes no en suite). I have opted for the shoestring alternative: a homestay, a property maintained by a local family. I chose Batu Lima Homestay from a website set up to help the people of Raja Ampat profit from tourism in the area. Twenty per cent of the population live below the poverty line. Fishing is the main source of income. So far, foreigners have reaped most of the rewards from the insidious arrival of tourists. The development of homestays is helping to change that. But since the local people have never seen a Western-style hotel or bathroom and are unfamiliar with a Western diet, I can expect my holiday to be very interesting. The website advised that if I like showers, air conditioning, insect-free rooms, Wi-Fi and electricity, a homestay may not be for me. As it happens, I like those things very much.

The sea has always appealed to me. I began scuba diving when I was in my 20s. I have jumped into the ocean after breaching humpback whales to try to catch an underwater glimpse.

I have swum with hammerhead sharks in Mexico and manta rays in Mozambique. The strangest creatures live underwater. No animal has a defence mechanism as bizarre as the blowfish, which, when threatened, inflates to three times its normal size. Or is as vividly coloured and fierce as a mantis shrimp. Raja Ampat is said to contain the most biodiverse marine habitat on the planet.

The boat bumps to a stop in the shallow water. When Lenny greets me, I realise she too doesn’t speak English. She leads me to my room, a Papuan-style hut on stilts, made of wood and palm fronds. Its only contents are a mattress on the floor and a mosquito net. The door is also made of woven palm fronds. It isn’t hinged, but stands loose and has to be lifted into place. There is a small veranda with a wooden bench and desk that overlook the sea. I can imagine myself being happy reading and writing here.

The bathroom, shared with three other rooms, is in a separate hut set back from the beach. It has a pink toilet and a dip mandi – a barrel of water and a ladle for washing. Plus a bonus feature – a showerhead and a tap! I had been told not to expect running water, so my holiday is already turning out to be more luxurious than expected.

Lenny points me towards a platform over the beach – the dining room for guests. It has a single long table for family-style meals. A fridge in the corner bears a note, saying ‘beer and soft drinks’. I open it. It’s empty, apart from some wilting green vegetables. Inside, the fridge is warm. There’s no electricity.

Lunch is waiting. Rice, boiled eggs coated in chilli and aubergine curry. It has none of the aesthetics of food I am used to. The aubergines look a little grey and the eggs are simply puzzling. I tentatively try some. They’re delicious. I eat every bite. Lenny is a genius. Thank goodness for that – I am reliant on her for almost all my meals for the next three weeks.

I have come to Raja Ampat for rest, solitude, reading and writing. With no Wi-Fi, no mobile signal, no papua resort television, no shops, I am hopeful I will get each in spades. I regularly holiday alone. It gives me space to think. This beach is isolated from the rest of the island. Contained by a dense jungle, the only way out is by boat.

Raja Ampat has much to offer the intrepid traveller. It is very different to the rest of Indonesia. Originally, it was joined to the land mass of Australia. The people are Melanesian, having more in common with Fijians than with Indonesians. The islands contain wildlife not seen elsewhere in the country. Small bug-eyed marsupials live in the trees. It is a twitcher’s paradise. More than 500 species of bird have been recorded on the islands. But my first interest isn’t the jungle, it’s the reef. That is where I will start my explorations.

I have been dreaming about the sea since I booked this trip (recommended to me by the owner of my local dive shop – Mike’s in Chiswick) and I cannot wait to see what life is waiting for me there. papua resort The water is clear and tepid. There are no waves, but a small current pulls at me. A few feet off the beach in front of Batu Lima Homestay, the sand gives way to coral. Every stroke brings me to denser coral. Within minutes I am at a drop-off, where the shallow water is succeeded by the deep blue. This is where the throng of life is congregating. Angelfish bask in the current. I spot a turtle almost camouflaged in a coral bed and, when I look out into the deeper water, two black-tip reef sharks float by.

Resorts in Raja Ampat are minimalist. There is one reason to travel to Papua – for the environment – and each hotel understands the importance of the preservation of its natural resource. Biodiversity Eco Resort is solar-powered, and used local materials in its construction. It has only eight rooms – but with extravagances such as furniture, en-suite bathrooms and electricity. They kindly welcome me into their fold for diving.

There are many diving highlights. I am stunned by my first sighting of a wobbegong shark. At first glance they look like vegetation, moss covered and flat, until you see their protruding eyes and downturned mouth. Then there are the epaulette sharks that walk along the sand. A dive site called Cape Kri is famous for having the greatest number of fish species ever spotted in a single dive: 374. There I lie for 15 minutes, doing nothing but watching a huge shoal of bumphead parrotfish.

Raja Ampat has been a secret of divers for two decades. It is a sprawl of perfect islands and idyllic seascapes. But it is not like the Seychelles. It doesn’t offer cocktails or sun umbrellas or ice cream or carefully raked sand. But that’s the beauty of it. For divers, kayakers, snorkellers, bird watchers, beach loungers, it is world class. And that’s to say nothing of the chocolate dough-nuts.