Into Indonesia’s Komodo National Park in search of something big, scaly and best admired from a distance.
Words by Kate Gazzard Images and video by Ben McNamara
“We’ll arrive at Rinca Island in about three hours,” our Explore Worldwide guide, Hadi, tells the group.
But three hours is a long time to think about an animal you’ve just been told can take down a water buffalo with a single bite.
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We’re somewhere off the coast of Flores, cutting through the islands of Komodo National Park aboard the boat that will be home for the next day, when the unofficial safety briefing begins.
“There’s a 50/50 chance to see wildlife,” Hadi tells us. “Cannot guarantee.” Fair enough. “If you spot a Komodo dragon, keep five to seven metres away.” Also, fair. “And don’t swing anything in front of a Komodo dragon.” Like I was gunna?
The sun is shining, the sea breeze is breezing and I'm off to find me some dragons. Life is good.
The islands roll past us while the information gets progressively more terrifying.
Komodo dragons are solitary animals. They eat only once or twice a month. They can take down animals twice their size and sometimes they eat each other. There are more than 1,400 of them living on Rinca Island. And we are currently heading directly towards it.
But from the boat, Rinca doesn’t look particularly menacing. Dry hills rise from blue water, their slopes browned by the tail end of the dry season.
First come the little, long-tailed macaques. Then the lazy, grazing buffalo. But still no dragons.
Powerwalking (read: running) to see the dragons.
The islands roll past us while the information gets progressively more terrifying.
Komodo dragons are solitary animals. They eat only once or twice a month. They can take down animals twice their size and sometimes they eat each other. There are more than 1,400 of them living on Rinca Island. And we are currently heading directly towards it.
But from the boat, Rinca doesn’t look particularly menacing. Dry hills rise from blue water, their slopes browned by the tail end of the dry season.
First come the little, long-tailed macaques. Then the lazy, grazing buffalo. But still no dragons.
Powerwalking (read: running) to see the dragons.
Dragons hunt by getting close enough to bite and the venom delivered through its bite prevents blood from clotting properly and contributes to shock. The dragon doesn’t necessarily need to finish the job there and then. It can wait.
And, as I’m about to discover, Komodo dragons are very good at waiting.
We’ve walked for about 40 minutes before we spot another buffalo lying ahead of us, its body in the stream, its head resting on dry land as if it’s sleeping. It looks peaceful, angelic even, but then it opens its eyes, and I can see the white around its irises.
It’s petrified. For a split second, I don’t get why.
Maybe one of the saddest things I've ever seen.
Dragons hunt by getting close enough to bite and the venom delivered through its bite prevents blood from clotting properly and contributes to shock. The dragon doesn’t necessarily need to finish the job there and then. It can wait.
And, as I’m about to discover, Komodo dragons are very good at waiting.
We’ve walked for about 40 minutes before we spot another buffalo lying ahead of us, its body in the stream, its head resting on dry land as if it’s sleeping. It looks peaceful, angelic even, but then it opens its eyes, and I can see the white around its irises.
It’s petrified. For a split second, I don’t get why.
Maybe one of the saddest things I've ever seen.
Then I start noticing the dragons
They’re scattered around the buffalo, lying in the dirt and beneath the trees, barely moving.
There are 27 of them in total.
Then I start noticing the dragons
They’re scattered around the buffalo, lying in the dirt and beneath the trees, barely moving.
There are 27 of them in total.
So. Many. Dragons.
So. Many. Dragons.
27 Komodo dragons sitting around one water buffalo. The buffalo has already been bitten and yet it’s still alive. Nadi explains that it could remain that way for days. Potentially up to a week. Eventually it’ll weaken, collapse and die. Until then, they wait.
I’d expected my first proper Komodo dragon encounter to be something a little more fast paced. A chase, perhaps. Some exposed teeth. At the very least, some kind of movement.
Instead, what I’m watching is horribly calm.
The buffalo tries to stand. Every so often a dragon lifts its head or slowly changes position. A tongue flicks in and out. Not a single one seems particularly bothered about speeding things up.
The buffalo knows they’re there and the dragons know dinner isn’t going anywhere. I come to the realisation that it’s way more unnerving than any chase could’ve been.
Nadi has been guiding on Rinca for five years. In all that time, he tells us, this is only the second occasion he’s seen the aftermath of a Komodo dragon bringing down a buffalo.
27 Komodo dragons sitting around one water buffalo. The buffalo has already been bitten and yet it’s still alive. Nadi explains that it could remain that way for days. Potentially up to a week. Eventually it’ll weaken, collapse and die. Until then, they wait.
I’d expected my first proper Komodo dragon encounter to be something a little more fast paced. A chase, perhaps. Some exposed teeth. At the very least, some kind of movement.
Instead, what I’m watching is horribly calm.
The buffalo tries to stand. Every so often a dragon lifts its head or slowly changes position. A tongue flicks in and out. Not a single one seems particularly bothered about speeding things up.
The buffalo knows they’re there and the dragons know dinner isn’t going anywhere. I come to the realisation that it’s way more unnerving than any chase could’ve been.
Nadi has been guiding on Rinca for five years. In all that time, he tells us, this is only the second occasion he’s seen the aftermath of a Komodo dragon bringing down a buffalo.
They look a lot smaller in photos 'cuz this one was a big boy IRL.
Suddenly Hadi’s 50/50 chance from the boat seems kinda comical. I may have been hoping to see at least one dragon, but our group’s practically walked into a siege.
Before arriving in Komodo, I’d built them up in my head as monsters. Giant prehistoric-looking lizards with venomous bites. An animal that surely spends its days stomping around looking for something to terrorise. But there’s none of that here. All I’ve seen them do so far is wait.
Suddenly Hadi’s 50/50 chance from the boat seems kinda comical. I may have been hoping to see at least one dragon, but our group’s practically walked into a siege.
Before arriving in Komodo, I’d built them up in my head as monsters. Giant prehistoric-looking lizards with venomous bites. An animal that surely spends its days stomping around looking for something to terrorise. But there’s none of that here. All I’ve seen them do so far is wait.
By the time we make our way back towards the boat 45 minutes later, I have the peculiar feeling that we’re leaving halfway through the story.
The buffalo is still standing and the dragons are still freaking waiting…
But life on board resets the mood quickly.
Nothing’s urgent out on the water. Shoes are kicked off and the top deck becomes the place to sit and watch Komodo National Park slide past. It’s one of the things I like most about the way Explore Worldwide has put this part of the trip together. We’re not dipping into the national park, then retreating to a hotel. We’re sleeping in it, moving through it and waking up in someplace new.
The good ol' Hatirah. She served us well.
At 4:30am, we leave the boat in darkness to climb Padar Island for what I’m hoping is an epic sunrise because, c’mon, 4:30am?? And there are 800 steps. Christ.
We start upwards under torchlight. It’s quiet apart from footsteps, heavy breathing and the occasional person discovering that there are, somehow, still more stairs (it’s me, I’m the occasional person).
Slowly, the black outlines around us begin to take shape. The sky lightens. The hills appear. Then the bays.
By the time we reach the top, the view that Padar has been hiding in the darkness is laid out below us: ridgelines folding into the sea, beaches curving around either side of the island and tiny boats sitting in the bays.
The sun crawls over the hills. It’s just as epic as I hoped it would be.
This hike was worth it... just.
This hike was worth it... just.
At 4:30am, we leave the boat in darkness to climb Padar Island for what I’m hoping is an epic sunrise because, c’mon, 4:30am?? And there are 800 steps. Christ.
We start upwards under torchlight. It’s quiet apart from footsteps, heavy breathing and the occasional person discovering that there are, somehow, still more stairs (it’s me, I’m the occasional person).
Slowly, the black outlines around us begin to take shape. The sky lightens. The hills appear. Then the bays.
By the time we reach the top, the view that Padar has been hiding in the darkness is laid out below us: ridgelines folding into the sea, beaches curving around either side of the island and tiny boats sitting in the bays.
The sun crawls over the hills. It’s just as epic as I hoped it would be.
Appreciatin' the epic view.
Only a few short hours later, we’re back in Komodo dragon territory. This time, on Komodo Island. There are more than 1,000 dragons here and after yesterday, I’m scanning the ground obsessively for anything large, scaly and hungry.
Naturally, the first dragon we find is literally the biggest male we’ve seen so far. And not long after, we come across a baby. It’s only seven months old and stalking across the ground, looking like it’s on a mission.
Compared with the enormous adults on Rinca, it looks almost harmless.
Gotta admit, they're a bit cute.
Only a few short hours later, we’re back in Komodo dragon territory. This time, on Komodo Island. There are more than 1,000 dragons here and after yesterday, I’m scanning the ground obsessively for anything large, scaly and hungry.
Naturally, the first dragon we find is literally the biggest male we’ve seen so far. And not long after, we come across a baby. It’s only seven months old and stalking across the ground, looking like it’s on a mission.
Compared with the enormous adults on Rinca, it looks almost harmless.
Gotta admit, they're a bit cute.
Our guide, Ona, explains that young Komodo dragons spend their early years up in the trees, feeding on small animals and, more importantly, staying away from the adults below. Why? Because adult Komodo dragons will eat them (Jeffrey Dahmer, who?)
There’s no great maternal protection program either. Once the babies hatch, they’re essentially wished good luck and sent off into a world containing a huge number of relatives who consider them food. So, they climb.
It’s super hard not to root for this little guy as it takes large gulps of water.
Our guide, Ona, explains that young Komodo dragons spend their early years up in the trees, feeding on small animals and, more importantly, staying away from the adults below. Why? Because adult Komodo dragons will eat them (Jeffrey Dahmer, who?)
There’s no great maternal protection program either. Once the babies hatch, they’re essentially wished good luck and sent off into a world containing a huge number of relatives who consider them food. So, they climb.
It’s super hard not to root for this little guy as it takes large gulps of water.
But why does this one kinda look like a turtle?
We continue through the island with Ona and the other rangers, learning to look for the signs we would have walked straight past a day earlier.
A Komodo dragon doesn’t rely on its nose to investigate what’s around it. Instead, it flicks its long, forked tongue through the air, collecting chemical information before transferring it to a sensory organ in the roof of its mouth. It explains the constant tongue flicking, but that doesn’t make it look any less sinister looking. And yet, the longer I spend around them, the less they resemble the monsters I’d imagined on the boat.
These guides could spot dragons from metres away (all I could see was bush).
They’re strange animals. Ancient-looking, certainly. Brutal when they need to be. But also measured. They conserve energy. They wait (as I already know). They watch. Mostly, they seem completely uninterested in us. Which is exactly how I’d like things to remain as we’re about 5 hours from the nearest hospital back in Labuan Bajo.
“Are you happy?” Ona asks us. Happy?
Yesterday, I’d watched 26 dragons patiently waiting for dinner to die. This morning I’d climbed 800 stairs in the dark. Now I’d met one of the biggest dragons on the island and one of the smallest before lunchtime.
I look back at Ona, “I’m bloody ecstatic”.
Ahh, Pink Beach; the reward.
Our final stop could hardly be further removed from the dry forests we’ve been walking through.
Pink Beach is exactly what it says on the tin, although the colour is softer than the name suggests. Tiny fragments of red coral mix with white sand to give the shoreline its blush, and after one and a half days spent being instructed on how not to behave around giant carnivorous lizards, getting into the water feels like a gentle way to finish.
Sunscreen on, I swim out.
Komodo National Park changes completely underwater. There are more than 1,000 species of fish in these waters and hundreds of species of reef-building coral. Below me, fish move between great patches of colour while the boat bobs on the waves.
It’s easy to forget the dragons for a while. Well, almost.
Did I mention they can swim too?
GET PLANNING
get in the know Female Komodo dragons can reproduce through parthenogenesis, producing offspring from unfertilised eggs. So yes, an island full of giant, venomous lizards could theoretically get even more lizards without a single male involved.
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