Nusa Penida

You don’t have to be superstitious or spiritually inclined to sense that there is something very weird about certain parts of Nusa Penida. Divers making the long haul around the coast from the small resorts at Nusa Lembongan to the dive site at Manta Point frequently comment on the strange aura that surrounds the area. The coast is spectacular, but it also has this indefinable strangeness, something that makes you feel a little uneasy. It comes as no surprise to discover that the Balinese believe Penida is the home of the fearsome demon king, Jero Gede Mecaling, and a place of dark spirits that need to be regularly appeased.

But don’t let that give you the wrong impression: the happily oblivious foreign visitor is unlikely to run into Jero himself, or even a minor bad spirit, and is far more likely to be impressed first by the aridity of these islands after the lushness of Bali, and secondly by the sheer majesty and stark beauty of much of the landscape. Should the visitor happen to be a diver, even more is in store: the reefs here are magnificent, and the proximity of the deep ocean and the strength of the currents means that big pelagics are a common sight.

Penida, Lembongan and Cenida lie in a tightly packed group just off the southeast coast of Bali. The stretch of sea that separates them from Bali is just 11km at the narrowest point, yet in almost every sense these islands are a world away. For a start they are on the ‘Australian’ side of the Wallace Line, and as such the flora and fauna here are quite different from those of Bali and Java. (As the locals say, “Here the tigers end.”) Being in the rain shadow of Agung makes the islands dry and desolate, and emphasizes the difference between the two natural environments. Even so, the environment of the islands is impressive, particularly the coast of Penida, largest of the three, much of which consists of massive cliffs up to 200m in height marked by clearly defined strata lines and weathered into bizarre shapes. Fresh water is scarce, and the islands aren’t as fertile as Bali, so few people live here. All of these factors no doubt led to the beliefs about the place being a home for evil spirits.

The main reason to come here, apart from escaping the tourist hassles of Bali, is to go diving. The narrow channel — part of the Lombok Strait — is deep and swept by very powerful currents that bring cold water rich in nutrients. The conditions are ideal for coral growth, and the reefs here are spectacular. The abundance of life attracts many big fish, including garoupa and various species of sharks; and the pelagics that pass through the Lombok Strait cruise close to the shore. The dives here are not only visually spectacular, you can also get caught in strong currents and find yourself rocketing along at speeds sure to give you a major jolt of adrenaline.

All of this would be enough to satisfy most divers, but there are a few extra surprises here that can add a whole new dimension to your underwater experience. From July to November some very unusual visitors come to the islands. The strangest is the giant mola mola, or sunfish, an awkward-looking creature that moves with a steady undulation like a ray turned on its side. Mola molas are big, slow and surreal, usually hanging in the blue water at the reef’s edge, intriguing and tantalizingly close, but coyly evasive should you try to approach. To encounter one is an extraordinary, almost otherworldly experience.

The other mysterious underwater creature is the manta ray, known to divers all around the world but rarely seen up close. At the aptly named Manta Point, on the west coast of Penida — and at the right time of year — it’s common to encounter up to half a dozen of these creatures in shallow water, and sightings of up to 20 are not uncommon. The experience of diving here is unforgettable. The ‘point’ is a jagged extension of huge, black cliff, and just offshore is a towering sea stack sparsely-covered in trees. If you look closely, hanging in the trees is a vast colony of bats, each one on average over a metre in length. As is typical of most inshore places frequented by mantas, the sea here is slightly murky, and the mantas first appear as huge, dark shadows looming towards you out of the gloom. They are elegant creatures, gliding effortlessly around the ‘cleaner stations’, but they are also very big, and it’s impossible not to feel a shudder of excitement as they pass close by. Although they are amongst the ocean’s most benign creatures, it’s easy to see how their haunting, mysterious demeanour can lead to beliefs in strange spirits around the islands. If you’re