06.17.08

Lovely island full of giant lizards

Posted in at 7:26 pm by Administrator

In case you’ve been sleeping, un-aware of the news or watching too much American Idol, a show which I boycott, it turns out a group of divers were visiting a reef in Indonesia. The current carried them away from their boat. They either waded or swam to the nearest island which happened to be the lovely Rinca.  Rinca is mountainous and full of palm trees, coconuts, beaches and Komodo Dragons. These are not the evil fire-breathing beasts of European medieval culture. These reptiles are Monitor lizards that have undergone a process known as island gigantism. With no other powerful predator to compete with for food, the Komodo Dragons have all they can get. This includes Wild Boar (roast pork), deer (veil?…oh shit Bambi), Water Buffalo (baby back ribs) and even carrion(McDonalds?). Their size has evolved to be between 6 and 10 feet long while reaching weights of 300 lbs. The ones found in zoos, like most zoo animals, are a bit obese in comparison.

 

Dragon: “Shit I’ve been drinkin too much Heineken”

 

The European divers included 3 British nationals, a Swede and a Frenchman. Experts divers that they were, they somehow were pushed by the current miles away from their boat. I wonder if that is common for so called “experts”. I mean, didn’t they see the 2003 movie Open Water ? They were extremely lucky not be attacked by the various creatures which inhabit the warm and treacherous Indonesian waters. Truth is, the ocean between New Guinea and Northern Australia has Salt Water Crocs, Sharks, Sting Rays, poisonous Sea Snakes, deadly Jellyfish and the occasional swimming Tiger. I ain’t fucking getting near the water if I’m in the area, not even if you pay me a million dollars and offer me a mansion full of sex servants that resemble Jessica Biel or Salma Hayek.

After wading to Rinca, the divers encountered the cuddly Komodo Dragons, armed with razor sharp teeth, powerful claws and a tail that can knock down a full grown deer. While their bite might not kill a large mammal, the resulting infection most certainly will. Komodo Dragons have septic saliva, which is full of bacteria, to which the Dragon is immune. This means that yellow fever and malaria can’t hurt the Dragon. Hell, they can probably resist nuclear fallout. And yes, scientists are studying the creatures’ adaptations.

 

“You talking to me. You talkin to me. Who the fuck you think you’re talking to!”

 

The divers said they threw rocks and their diving belts at a Komodo Dragon which got too close for comfort on the beach. I’m not sure if that was a smart decision. The best option is to run, but not into the water because Komodo Dragons are also good swimmers (another dangerous marine animal). The Dragon tried to eat the diving belts. It might get massive indigestion. They usually regurgitate bones, hoofs and horns from it’s prey. Anacondas on other hands can digest anything, but that’s another story altogether. The divers avoided more contact with the Dragons and were rescued by the Indonesian Coast Guard (if such thing exists). On several online boards, some folks said that they should have fed the Frenchman to the Dragon. Others were surprised that the Frenchman didn’t surrender to the Dragon. As funny as the Dragon encounter sounded, we shouldn’t make fun of a story like this, lest we also end up shipwrecked on a Dragon-infested island.

 

 

“Oh sorry, did I disturb your concentration?”

 

Actually, funny was the Phil Bronstein Komodo Dragon attack. Bronstein, a San Francisco Chronicle editor, for a time was Sharon Stone’s husband (I’d be angry if everyone had seen my wife’s cooch on the big screen). He was at the zoo and the handlers invited him to tour the inside of the Komodo Dragon enclosure (is this common procedure?). The handler asked Bronstein to take off his white sneakers which might excite the Dragon. White shoes resemble white rats, another delicacy enjoyed by our reptile friend. Somehow Bronstein’s foot looked crunchy to the Dragon and the poor guy was bit. But they quickly took him to the hospital and saved his foot. Lesson of the story kids: never go into a Komodo Dragon’s enclosure. As a matter of fact never go into any wild animals habitat, because you will become lunch.

 

 

“Get these fat bitches off of me!”

 

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06.09.08

Be Careful Who You go Kayaking with…

Posted in , Sports at 7:22 pm by Administrator

Turns out, I have joined many different Critical Mass-type groups that are posted on Meetup.com and other websites. There is a group for every hobby imaginable (though I still have not found one for Parkour). You name it. From bowling, rollerblading, to knitting, to mechanics enthusiasts. I joined groups for tri-ahtletes, runners, cyclists and kayakers. It’s an interesting way to meet people with similar hobbies and do some social networking.

The bike ride group has sent me several messages about meet-ups, but they always pick dates when I’m already busy. A kayak group sent me a message about a meet-up and it fit with my schedule. We met late Tuesday afternoon at Matheson Hammock park. Earlier, I had gone to a job interview in the area around Miami Metro Zoo. I don’t usually drive all the way down there, worse now with these shit gas prices. I met with “Fred” and “Jack”. Fred was in his early 40s and looked a bit rugged. Jack was in his late 20s like me. Fred has a large collection of kayaks and I rented one from him (some people collect porn, others collect kayaks). I had only kayaked twice before at Oleta River State Park, but had got the hang of it. Fred’s kayaks were the close feet ones, where only your torso, head and arms stick out. As I later discovered, they are also less stable in water.

Eight people were supposed to show up, but in the end it was only us three. No women, which sucks for me. So we went out kayaking. I hadn’t kayaked in this area which is the coastline along Pinecrest and Palmetto Bay. It is mostly mangroves, dotted with mansions (no poor people allowed). 50 yards from the shore, the water is still shallow, averaging between 4 and 6 feet in depth. Marine shrubs and other plants are easily visible. The waves are small but when you’re on a kayak, even small waves feel like they’re going to turn you over. Another funny thing was that as hard as I paddled, my kayak seemed to be veering out towards the far ocean. Fred said it had to do with the wind. Turns out that my kayak was about 10 pounds heavier. Gee, thanks, Fred.

Fred and Jack were expert hard-core, no-fear, all guts and glory type kayakers. Along the coastline we paddled south. After reaching a mangrove area, we paddled inland through a swampy section with several narrow and shallow canals and reached Chapman pond, before going back. The whole trip back and forth was 12 miles!! 12 fucking miles!! Thank God I’m in good shape. Anyone expecting 2 or 3 miles would have had gone into cardiac arrest. They’re lucky I’m not an attorney. Anyway, I kept up as best I could, usually 20 or so yards behind the supermen.

Along the way the way I get stuck in a sandbar and discover the energy consuming task of paddling your way out of a few inches of water inside a 50 pound kayak. By this time, it’s around 8pm or later. The coastline is dark with few lights. I start hearing a splash here and there along the water, probably fish. Fred and Jack start talking about how sting rays and little sharks swim around this area. Oh crap! Sting rays are passive, but they can kill a person with their spike if they feel threatened (Steve Irwin, RIP). And sharks, well, I don’t care if it’s 2 feet long. Those motherfuckers have teeth that can tear off your hand easily. I become paranoid and paddle faster. I can’t see anything through the water and the trip seems eternal. My arms feel like they’re going to fall off. I can’t take a break because then the kayak feels like it going to tip over, which isn’t good in these sting ray and little-shark infested waters. I have to tough it out. Be competitive, no breaks, no stops. Finally we reach the pier. The ironmen mention that this is a short trip for them. They usually do 20 miles or more. Oh, well. Whatever. The trip wasn’t bad, but in the future, I’ll kayak at Key Biscayne or Oleta River State park where I can do it at my own pace.

 

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