Nusakambangan, We're Coming!

Prologues

*H2OP Swamp Mining

The second day was a hellish journey for us. The swamp was actually defiant with the death grin. Sure oes. It was so quiet that we could only hear our own breath. Too quiet even for a cemetery.

Nevertheless, it is unyielding for us to retreat. We looked at each other and hung a smile before finally drowning, setting. Feeling the little feet in the mud. Although in theory we have to run fast to minimize the load when walking in the mud, but the heavy load of the carrier on the back always moves the soles of the feet rivaling the mangrove roots that are able to stand on the surface.

It feels like we've been walking for half a day. The receding swamp makes the mud stick unwilling to scramble. Our bodies are no longer human. It looks like a zombie just came out of the grave. Even the stork that was originally perched was calm, flying to see the heaviness of our presence.

Suddenly one of the team members thrashed. He screamed and reported his legs sprained. Maybe because it is too forceful to wriggle against the rain of gravity. He also dragged his body to move. We finally helped pull the carrier that was no longer held back.

The stretch of swamp with no screech was still visible far away. The day has been spoiled, and we are still trapped in the swamp. Unwanted events happen again. Our other friend suddenly fell. Not moving at all. We were confused. Fortunately the team leader thought quickly looking for the river to ask for help.

While we waited, we tried to wake him up. After looking amused, we dragged him towards the river. Meet the team leader who managed to call the fisherman with a jukung boat. Due to the limitations of the boat only two people managed to get caught. A fainting man and a friend whose leg is sprained.

The rest of the group of four people must be willing to spend the night in the middle of a puddle of mud. Climbing mangrove trees, to avoid high tide. Sleeping on a mangrove tree like a chicken. If Lena is right, be prepared to fall and swim or drown.

Raka Blantara's

2002

　

　

Bima held a topographic map of Nusakambangan Island. On Sunday he came to Falah's house.

“Woaa, can map from where?” Falah looked at the map whose images are in the form of curved lines, sometimes the arch forms an irregular circle shape. "Cool!"

These lines are called contour lines. Its function determines the location of the height of the ground in a place. The more pointed and tight the arch the steeper the surface terrain of the ground.

“Babakan Scaffolding Beach, here.” Bima index tap-tap the left side of the western corner of the island when on the map. “And we will comb the beaches here, until Permisan Beach only.”

“Lumayan close. Okay, let's invasion there!” Falah looked excited.

“It seems,” Smile Bima expands. “looking from a scale of one to 50,000, that means every one centimeter represents 50,000 cm from the actual distance. Just measure how many inches from the Scaffold to Permisan.”

“It's precisely his adventure side.”

“Where will we go?” ask Falah again to look at the map.

“There's a pencil?”

“I'll get you a minute.” Falah moved from sitting in the house looking for a pencil Bima requests.

The terrace of Falah's beautiful house, many trees make Bima not want to enter his friend's house. He wants to enjoy the freshness.

Falah appeared with a pencil-headed doll.

“It's got my sister.” said Falah brushed aside the twitch of wonder from Bima.

Bima nodded responsibly. During this time he had never felt sharing or doing things to borrow-borrow with others, in this case certainly brother. As the only child all the needs of Bima are met, nothing is lacking.

The pencil changed hands. The Milky Way immediately scratches a line through the arch sometimes following the contour curve, which will be their escape route.

“Start from here,” point Bima to the map. “several in the form of a path. It will speed up our steps. Well,”

“Yosh!” Falah. “Can I request a copy?”

“This is for you,” says Bima. “I'm still at home.”

The two continued to be engrossed in discussions until a plate of fried cassava was presented at the table. Wow, really understanding mother. Increase the length of the conversation between Bima and Falah.