Sadly it’s time to leave Bunaken … but not without working for it. I paid a nice sum of euros for my resort to arrange a boat to take me back to the mainland, so I expected a red carpet rolled out to my front door. Well, I thought I thought.
Someone arrived to fetch me and right away offered to take my backpack. Normally I don’t like to give my work to other people, but today I felt generous and so I handed it right over … but in exchange he handed me two big empty water-cooler jugs to carry. Apparently this is the boat that takes the recyclables from Bunaken to the mainland, so I was expected to help. No big deal, so I grabbed them.
We then walked into the jungle – I thought we’d walk towards the water, but whatever — when another man joined us, this guy carrying eight of these huge jugs. I felt guilty for carrying only two, so I offered to take two of his. Up to four jugs now … no big deal still.
Finally the guys decide to head towards water. Because it was low tide, the boat couldn’t come up directly to land, and so to reach it we had to walk into the water. But first came the quicksand. I walked towards the water and immediately sunk down to my shins. I tore my feet out of the ground but the sand had swallowed my flip-flop, and so I had to put my four jugs down (and being empty they started floating away) and sent in my hand after my flip-flop. After rescuing it, I took both of them off and carried them in hand. Some sand-dwelling parasite must have latched on to my bare feet and is now inside me.
I ventured on, still in quicksand, watching the water get deeper with each step. Soon I was in a mess of mangroves, seaweed, and starfish, with the water now up to my groin — of my normal clothes, not swimming trunks. The only thing I cared about was my camera, so I used whatever fingers I had left to hold up my left pant sleeve; I let my right pant sleeve — with my money– suffer. Things I’m holding now: four huge jugs, two flip-flops, and one pant leg. The locals found me amusing to watch.
Once I got to the boat I finally emptied my arms … but then was put to more work moving cases of beer. Ten of them. No problem, I thought, since empty bottles can’t be too heavy. Turns out these were full bottles, and when I picked one up the cardboard was so soggy from the rain, 24 green bottles of Bintang came crashing down. All this for a ride to the mainland.
One hard-earned boat ride later, I now sit confined to my hotel room, waiting for my pants and money, spread out on the bed, as they try to dry.
