Karimunjawa Catch-Up, or: Four Days of Rain on 27 Tropical Islands

We promised you tales of our time on Karimunjawa: here, we deliver.  Most of the important parts are in the title, really.  We researched the intricacies of the Javanese weather cycle intensely last winter and chose the driest-on-average month to journey.  The best-laid plans...  

We arrived via the express ferry from Jepara last Monday, a two-hour journey that was quite fun for those who snagged a spot on the outer deck.  I got stuck in the cabin and had to make polite conversation  - apparently the captain forbids crossing decks once in motion.  Ah, well.  

Once we got to Karimunjawa, the largest and most-inhabited of the archipelago (I am learning not to say archie-pih-lah-go, but bad habits die hard), we embarked on our pre-paid tour of three days of snorkeling and island-hopping.  

Day One was a blast.  We caught some sun, saw some fish, and astounded the Indonesian tourists on our boat with our swimming abilities.  

One of the longboats we used to get from island to island.  We would sit on the top checkered deck or at the front, depending on how wet we felt like getting.  The longboats pitch enthusiastically over oncoming waves.

We ended up at a glorious beach for sunset where we shared coconuts and posed for pictures - none of which I have, sadly.  

The next morning started the rain, and we went out on our adventures anyway.  The Indonesian divemasters are determined to get you your money's worth.  So, we sat on top of the boat as it pitched and yawed and generally wondered if our lives were going to end.  By now, it must be apparent that they didn't.  

We got so wet and cold and rained-on that I have zero pictures of those days.  Just imagine a group of bedraggled rats, and it'll come pretty close.  

Our fourth day was our first taste ofI un-scheduled freedom.  We rented scooters to try our hand at exploring the island by way of finding a hotel for our last two nights.  It was raining, of course.  

We discovered that our raincoats are a spectrum of blues. 

Nicole braves the wind as we tour the mangroves of Karimunjawa.  

One of the thousands of chickens who roam the island free. 

A look at the ferry pier and harbor from the only restaurant in town, plus a potentially brightening sky.  

We spent our last day in Karimunjawa ecstatic about the return of the sun, and split our time between beaches on the south and north of the main island, scooting between the two willy-nilly (whole obeying traffic laws and being respectful to animals).  Evidently, I was so excited about it that I forgot to take any pictures at all: for this one, imagine lightly toasting slices of bread.  We certainly made up for lost time and all (even Kacie!) ended up with a nice tan.  

Now that we've been away from Karimunjawa for a bit, we think the islands are nice - but they could do better.  If no one decides it's important to keep them free of trash, it's entirely possible that they won't be pleasant at all in the future.  

To close: some snaps from our Island Week.  

Stacen atop the railings.

A solitary boat navigating the inter-island channel.  

Sunset: glorious.