The Moluccas: Splendors (and struggles) of a tourist-free archipelago
After "the unnamed archipelago" off Morotai, today's goal:
- Kolorai-Morotai by private boat
- Morotai-Tobelo (north Halmahera) by public speedboat
- Tobelo-Kupakupa: we'll see
Daily speedboat from Daruba (Morotai) at 8 AM. Our host confirms the night before that her husband can take us to Daruba by boat. Good news. Skeptical (you inevitably become so in Indonesia, where things rarely go as planned), I still ask to see the boat... Instead of the usual outrigger boat that can carry 5-6 people, it's a tiny dinghy with a minuscule motor. I make it clear we can't board with two people and two bags on such a small boat. Plus, we're really not reassured—if the sea is rough, we're not sure we'll make it to Daruba. Finally, he shows me the usual boat, I thank him, and hope he doesn’t change his mind overnight.
I ask our host to wake us at 5:30 AM for a 6 AM departure, knowing we have the speedboat at 8 AM. For this, I take a sheet of paper and write:
5:30 AM (I draw a clock) 6 AM Kolorai -> Daruba 8 AM Daruba -> Tobelo
She gives me big signs that she understands, so we’re reassured for the next day. Skeptical (again), we set our alarm for 5:30 AM. When no one shows up 15 minutes later, I start making noise: the woman arrives, clearly surprised to see me—she completely forgot or didn’t understand. I manage to explain we need to leave at 6 AM with her husband. She’s okay with it, so I ask her to show me the boat with her husband (the house is on the beach): we go out, and no one’s there. Finally, she goes to wake him up (we could’ve kept searching the beach), and after refueling, we leave at dawn.
The sea is calm, everything goes well—we still remember our trip in the Togians two years earlier, caught in a storm between Malenge and Dolong to catch the 8 AM ferry. The fear of our lives, soaked in the boat amid waves, obviously without life jackets. About an hour later, we’re at Daruba port (not on the beach like on the way there—I had confirmed before departure). I’m quickly reassured—other people are waiting for the speedboat, one shows it to me, everything looks good. The planned boat is replaced by another, then a third. Why? No idea, but departure is on time.
2+ hours later, we arrive in Tobelo with a calm sea (apparently, it’s often rough and very unpleasant).
At the pier exit, we look for a taxi or a *kijang* (shared taxi). Since there are several of us, we quickly fill a *kijang* and head to Kupakupa.
I’d read on this forum that after the dramatic events of 1999-2002 between Christians and Muslims, there was a slight climate of insecurity in Halmahera in general and the Tobelo area in particular, and that Christians should be discreet in certain places. So, we’re cautious—no crosses, but we must look like Christians anyway 😎. Indeed, there must have been tense moments in the past when churches and mosques tended to burn. There are still destroyed churches, but we see mosques and, above all, huge churches under construction in the villages we pass through.
Everything seems to have calmed down; we never saw the slightest aggressive attitude, whether in town, villages, or the countryside. On the contrary, as always, people come to talk to us and especially take selfies with us, which they’ll proudly show to their friends.
The road winds through a beautiful coconut palm landscape and passes through a few villages, then we leave the main road, and the *kijang* drops us at the end of a dead end. To the right, many Pertamina trucks enter (it’s the local small oil terminal); to the left, a dirt track. Surprised, we don’t feel like getting out in this remote spot (again, we remember last year when a taxi dropped us on a forest track, alone, 10 km from the nearest village, at night, in front of a... closed hotel. Fortunately, everything ended well). A few young girls chatting in the shade confirm that Kupakupa Cottages is indeed here. After a 500-meter walk, the sea appears, then the bungalows. It’s open, and a girl calls the boss: a surprised older white man arrives. Just like my English accent always gives me away as French, in two sentences, I detect a German!
Lutz (a bit blurry!)
I understand then why Bernt in Ternate recommended coming here—he’s a friend of Lutz’s (there can’t be many Germans in the Moluccas). He settled in Kupakupa in 1993, left in 1999, and returned in 2003 when peace was restored.
There are about ten bungalows—the simplest ones right on the beach, the more comfortable ones in a lush, beautiful garden adorned with flowers, trees, and shrubs, and there’s even a greenhouse full of cacti: that’s Lutz’s passion and occupation. We’re the only guests, as usual.
The beach is beautiful (though not as much as in Morotai’s atoll, sorry 😊), in a sheltered bay, deserted, well-shaded by large trees, with a small snorkeling spot 200 meters to the left. Further to the right is the small oil terminal, but no smell, no pollution, no noise—just don’t look. You can lounge in a good armchair watching the sea, drink excellent fruit juices, and eat exceptional cuisine prepared by the very friendly Davy, a young woman who’ll also be our guide. A good enough reason to stay here a few days (especially after the cold rice-fish at Kolorai).
Plus, Lutz offers us beer... obviously, I have to accept after days of withdrawal on the islands! 😛 With everything I’d read about religious tensions and the risks of drinking alcohol in public in this region, I’m rather surprised. And when he runs out of beer, Lutz takes his scooter to a small shop (which doesn’t just sell Bintang—there’s even a choice of beers) in Kupakupa village. The clothing also surprises us: while we expected to see veiled women like in Ternate, Tidore, and the Morotai islands, we see young women aged 16-25 dressed very skimpily. 😉
And we’re not done being surprised because on Sunday: - The beach is invaded by men who come to drink beers bought at Kupakupa Cottage (and obviously left there, which means Lutz cleans the beach every Monday). - Many young couples stroll hand in hand under the trees, far from the usual behavior in these parts.
One evening, Lutz offers to take us to Pulau Meti, a small island a few kilometers long where a Frenchman has created a guesthouse in a magnificent spot. The next day, he decides it’ll be better with Davy, who’s organized everything. Bernt had also told us about it, so we think if we like it, we can come back for 2-3 days.
30 minutes by scooter and a few villages later, we arrive at the pier where a boat is waiting (how great organized trips are in the end 😏):
We reach Pulau Meti in about half an hour, circling several very beautiful small islands. The boat will come back to pick us up in the afternoon.
The Frenchman isn’t there—he’s gone for a few days with clients to go diving, so we give up on the idea of coming back. The guesthouse is simple but built according to local customs: one long palm bungalow with light partitions, not completely closed to cool the interior, very pretty shared outdoor showers, shared toilets, a reading room, etc... all along a small white sand beach with a (small but beautiful) snorkeling spot, coconut grove in the back.
Right in front, we swam in an incredible school of fish—probably tens of thousands. Amazing (I’d seen this in documentaries, didn’t think I’d see it with my own eyes) and almost stressful when you swim through it (too bad my "waterproof" camera had no battery).
As expected (if you can say that), the return boat doesn’t come back to pick us up, but the advantage of "being on an organized trip" is that we don’t have to worry—Davy takes care of everything and tells us we just have to walk through a beautiful coconut grove to the village 2 km away.
Davy explains that the Japanese had built a landing strip on this island—the strip is now the village’s main street, which is therefore very long:
The Japanese landing strip
The Japanese were also supposed to build a soccer field in addition to the landing strip—this one isn’t great!
We then wait for the public boat, hoping to beat the storm—it’s getting really dark:
Davy, our guide-cook, and villagers on the public boat
Back to Kupakupa.
Practical info: - I don’t think Kupakupa is a destination in itself—the long journey isn’t worth it, but it’s a really pleasant stop on the way from Morotai to recharge with good food. The LP (Lonely Planet) gives a phone number, I don’t know if it works. - Pulau Meti might be worth a trip on its own. I don’t know how to contact the Frenchman, I don’t know if there’s a phone, obviously no email (internet was only in Ternate during our entire stay).
After these few days of complete rest in Kupakupa, next episode: - Return to Ternate - Discovering Tidore by scooter
Daily speedboat from Daruba (Morotai) at 8 AM. Our host confirms the night before that her husband can take us to Daruba by boat. Good news. Skeptical (you inevitably become so in Indonesia, where things rarely go as planned), I still ask to see the boat... Instead of the usual outrigger boat that can carry 5-6 people, it's a tiny dinghy with a minuscule motor. I make it clear we can't board with two people and two bags on such a small boat. Plus, we're really not reassured—if the sea is rough, we're not sure we'll make it to Daruba. Finally, he shows me the usual boat, I thank him, and hope he doesn’t change his mind overnight.
I ask our host to wake us at 5:30 AM for a 6 AM departure, knowing we have the speedboat at 8 AM. For this, I take a sheet of paper and write:
5:30 AM (I draw a clock) 6 AM Kolorai -> Daruba 8 AM Daruba -> Tobelo
She gives me big signs that she understands, so we’re reassured for the next day. Skeptical (again), we set our alarm for 5:30 AM. When no one shows up 15 minutes later, I start making noise: the woman arrives, clearly surprised to see me—she completely forgot or didn’t understand. I manage to explain we need to leave at 6 AM with her husband. She’s okay with it, so I ask her to show me the boat with her husband (the house is on the beach): we go out, and no one’s there. Finally, she goes to wake him up (we could’ve kept searching the beach), and after refueling, we leave at dawn.
The sea is calm, everything goes well—we still remember our trip in the Togians two years earlier, caught in a storm between Malenge and Dolong to catch the 8 AM ferry. The fear of our lives, soaked in the boat amid waves, obviously without life jackets. About an hour later, we’re at Daruba port (not on the beach like on the way there—I had confirmed before departure). I’m quickly reassured—other people are waiting for the speedboat, one shows it to me, everything looks good. The planned boat is replaced by another, then a third. Why? No idea, but departure is on time.
2+ hours later, we arrive in Tobelo with a calm sea (apparently, it’s often rough and very unpleasant).At the pier exit, we look for a taxi or a *kijang* (shared taxi). Since there are several of us, we quickly fill a *kijang* and head to Kupakupa.
I’d read on this forum that after the dramatic events of 1999-2002 between Christians and Muslims, there was a slight climate of insecurity in Halmahera in general and the Tobelo area in particular, and that Christians should be discreet in certain places. So, we’re cautious—no crosses, but we must look like Christians anyway 😎. Indeed, there must have been tense moments in the past when churches and mosques tended to burn. There are still destroyed churches, but we see mosques and, above all, huge churches under construction in the villages we pass through.
Everything seems to have calmed down; we never saw the slightest aggressive attitude, whether in town, villages, or the countryside. On the contrary, as always, people come to talk to us and especially take selfies with us, which they’ll proudly show to their friends.
The road winds through a beautiful coconut palm landscape and passes through a few villages, then we leave the main road, and the *kijang* drops us at the end of a dead end. To the right, many Pertamina trucks enter (it’s the local small oil terminal); to the left, a dirt track. Surprised, we don’t feel like getting out in this remote spot (again, we remember last year when a taxi dropped us on a forest track, alone, 10 km from the nearest village, at night, in front of a... closed hotel. Fortunately, everything ended well). A few young girls chatting in the shade confirm that Kupakupa Cottages is indeed here. After a 500-meter walk, the sea appears, then the bungalows. It’s open, and a girl calls the boss: a surprised older white man arrives. Just like my English accent always gives me away as French, in two sentences, I detect a German!
Lutz (a bit blurry!)I understand then why Bernt in Ternate recommended coming here—he’s a friend of Lutz’s (there can’t be many Germans in the Moluccas). He settled in Kupakupa in 1993, left in 1999, and returned in 2003 when peace was restored.
There are about ten bungalows—the simplest ones right on the beach, the more comfortable ones in a lush, beautiful garden adorned with flowers, trees, and shrubs, and there’s even a greenhouse full of cacti: that’s Lutz’s passion and occupation. We’re the only guests, as usual.
The beach is beautiful (though not as much as in Morotai’s atoll, sorry 😊), in a sheltered bay, deserted, well-shaded by large trees, with a small snorkeling spot 200 meters to the left. Further to the right is the small oil terminal, but no smell, no pollution, no noise—just don’t look. You can lounge in a good armchair watching the sea, drink excellent fruit juices, and eat exceptional cuisine prepared by the very friendly Davy, a young woman who’ll also be our guide. A good enough reason to stay here a few days (especially after the cold rice-fish at Kolorai).
Plus, Lutz offers us beer... obviously, I have to accept after days of withdrawal on the islands! 😛 With everything I’d read about religious tensions and the risks of drinking alcohol in public in this region, I’m rather surprised. And when he runs out of beer, Lutz takes his scooter to a small shop (which doesn’t just sell Bintang—there’s even a choice of beers) in Kupakupa village. The clothing also surprises us: while we expected to see veiled women like in Ternate, Tidore, and the Morotai islands, we see young women aged 16-25 dressed very skimpily. 😉
And we’re not done being surprised because on Sunday: - The beach is invaded by men who come to drink beers bought at Kupakupa Cottage (and obviously left there, which means Lutz cleans the beach every Monday). - Many young couples stroll hand in hand under the trees, far from the usual behavior in these parts.
One evening, Lutz offers to take us to Pulau Meti, a small island a few kilometers long where a Frenchman has created a guesthouse in a magnificent spot. The next day, he decides it’ll be better with Davy, who’s organized everything. Bernt had also told us about it, so we think if we like it, we can come back for 2-3 days.
30 minutes by scooter and a few villages later, we arrive at the pier where a boat is waiting (how great organized trips are in the end 😏):
We reach Pulau Meti in about half an hour, circling several very beautiful small islands. The boat will come back to pick us up in the afternoon.
The Frenchman isn’t there—he’s gone for a few days with clients to go diving, so we give up on the idea of coming back. The guesthouse is simple but built according to local customs: one long palm bungalow with light partitions, not completely closed to cool the interior, very pretty shared outdoor showers, shared toilets, a reading room, etc... all along a small white sand beach with a (small but beautiful) snorkeling spot, coconut grove in the back.
Right in front, we swam in an incredible school of fish—probably tens of thousands. Amazing (I’d seen this in documentaries, didn’t think I’d see it with my own eyes) and almost stressful when you swim through it (too bad my "waterproof" camera had no battery).
As expected (if you can say that), the return boat doesn’t come back to pick us up, but the advantage of "being on an organized trip" is that we don’t have to worry—Davy takes care of everything and tells us we just have to walk through a beautiful coconut grove to the village 2 km away.
Davy explains that the Japanese had built a landing strip on this island—the strip is now the village’s main street, which is therefore very long:
The Japanese landing strip
The Japanese were also supposed to build a soccer field in addition to the landing strip—this one isn’t great!We then wait for the public boat, hoping to beat the storm—it’s getting really dark:
Davy, our guide-cook, and villagers on the public boatBack to Kupakupa.
Practical info: - I don’t think Kupakupa is a destination in itself—the long journey isn’t worth it, but it’s a really pleasant stop on the way from Morotai to recharge with good food. The LP (Lonely Planet) gives a phone number, I don’t know if it works. - Pulau Meti might be worth a trip on its own. I don’t know how to contact the Frenchman, I don’t know if there’s a phone, obviously no email (internet was only in Ternate during our entire stay).
After these few days of complete rest in Kupakupa, next episode: - Return to Ternate - Discovering Tidore by scooter
For 75,000 IDR, you get an excellent full meal: salad, fish/meat with sides, fruit for dessert, and water. We also just had a single dish for lunch... but I forgot the price.
For the taxi to Sofifi, no problem—like always, we ask the owner, who calls someone he knows at our preferred time: 500,000 IDR—about 4 hours to the boat with 2-3 photo stops.
Minimum comfort.
