THE NIGHT BEFORE
I was restless. I couldn’t sleep. I got tired with the activities during the day with students and teachers. We camped and we’re all cramped in a big tent. I just couldn’t get sleep to come and take me. I went out of my tent and lay under the stars. The wind soothing me as my mind drifted to the images of Mt. Krakatoa. I got to sleep at two in the morning. The journey starts at 5 am.
THE DAY (May 30, 2011)
It’s 4 am and time to get up and hit the shower and get ready. We leave by boat at 5 am. I’ll be going only with my guide and the resort’s photographer to document the run. My guide, “Pak Youndee” a cyclist and trekker, is more excited than I am. He made sure that everything is prepared, just as I requested: water, my fave: “pacari”, fresh lemon juice, bread and food for everybody. While “Ibu Tiuk”, our photographer was all set with her ‘toys’!
As the group had their breakfast, my heart was pounding, like in every run or skyrun that I go to. I silently prayed for a safe journey, strength and fun for everyone in the group. As I tied my shoe laces, the sound of the waves bothered me. It was a bit high, but I was assured that it’s just normal. I wore my usual white shirt (though it’s cotton, It’s the only thing I can wear, comfortable and light enough for the run), my cap, my shorts and my guts!
My initial plan, was to kiss Mt. Krakatoa before sunrise, however Pak Youndee said that no boats are available until 5am. All bags on board our boat, we sailed off at at 5:40 am. It’s a 4-hour trip. As we settled in, Pak Youndee and Ibu Tiuk introduced me to the skipper and his assistant. They were all very kind and were happy to have me on deck. Their smiles were all heart-warming. What a boost to a lonely soul.
It was windy, bumpy and I got cold. I don’t have my jacket and I don’t have a watch. From the stories I gathered, I knew I was going to be baked and caked between the scorching sun and the sulfuric surface of Mt. Krakatao and will have difficulty breathing. Again I prayed for safety.
Each time I tried to drift into a slumber, I would always be awaken by the clicking of Ibu Tiuk’s camera. As I joined her, I saw the beautiful sunrise above Mt. Rajabasa, I took pictures from my faulty cellphone and camera too. The clicking continued and I can’t wait to see all the captured features and action from all of our cameras that would tell my story.
While the sun continue to rise and the humidity and heat becoming uncomfortable, I got amused by flying fishes in such wonderful colors. I waited for dolphins but I wasn’t as lucky. I saw lots of fishing boats with their Indonesian flags waving. At this point we were in the middle of a vast Sunda Gulf.
Two hours passed, and we passed by a big island, Mt. Sebesi, where we dropped by and picked up the forest ranger to get us through Mt. Krakatoa. He was burly and had this intimidating stance about him. By his waist is his machete and between his lips was a toothpick and a cigarette! I laughed inside me.
I asked for food, as I grew hungry. Pak Youndee reached out and gave me my ration of sandwiches, fruit juice, water and pocari. In a few hours, we would be at the base of Mt. Krakatoa. I munched on knowing I would need the energy for the run.
Pak Youndee and our skipper called my attention. From a distance, is the majestic view of “mother” and “anak” Krakatoa. My jaw dropped, not because of the beauty before me but the realization that the mountain I was going to run was very much alive and was spewing its wrath. I was reduced to my diminutive me. I had to ask Pak Youndee, “is it safe to run it?” (foolish of me to forget that Indonesia has the most number of active volcanoes in the world!). He had this sheepish smile on his face and replied, “Yes miss, it is safe but you just have to be careful on the sulfuric surface for it is hot and soft, and the gaseous smell will make it difficult for you to breathe and you have to run as fast as you can, when you hear ‘something’ = boom!. Hearing that, I caught a lump in my throat and told myself, “what have I got myself into…I might just end up a living sacrifice or a toasted duck, for all I know!”
We arrived at the base of Mt. Krakatoa at a few minutes before 10am. It had a black shore line. From what I was told, this one part of the group of Krakatoa islands was born in 1927 from its mother volcano. As I looked up, it looked peaceful at first then in a blink of an eye, it started to spew dark clouds of gas. I was silently holding on to whatever is left of my courage.
It’s now or never. Pak Youndee, his assistant, Rudi and Ibu Tiuk had all their cameras with them and we all started to the base. The dark sandy landscape was in beautiful contrast with the mangroves and a few trees commonly found in the tropics.
‘tis the time. Since I don’t have a watch, I asked Pak Youndee to take note of the time and to follow me in his comfortable pace. I just knew it’s going to be a difficult ascent, not just for the feet and legs but more for the lungs. I started to push uphill and fell on my knees several times. The sand was just too soft to give me balance. The surface was hot to my touch whenever I fell. My shoes seem to melt from the heated surface as I run further up. The headwind was even cruel. It was blowing hot, sulfuric air towards me. I felt burnt all over, especially my feet. It was hard to breathe.
Reaching the top of the permitted area was elating. I bent, knelt and kissed the ground, it was hot to my lips. Then as I took in the breathtaking view on the sulfuric region, I heard a faint sound and I could see dark clouds of smoke coming out.
At this point, i could hear my heart pounding and was sweating profusely. Instincts drove me to run down as fast as I can and get out of there. I went on and on. It was like racing for my dear life.
Reaching the base, I felt safe. Ibu Tiuk was there smiling at me. Then her smile was gone when I said…"can I run it again”? And so I did and went for another kiss at Mt. Krakatoa one more time. This time, my group just ate and watched and waited for me to come back.
And that's my story...thank you for reading. 'til the next run. See you on the road.
(I dedicate this to my parents, to the people who inspire me and to that 'best' thing that ever happened to me. And to God -- my comfort and my strength in everything that i do).
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