Leaving the Comfort of Bali Behind
Nestled just south of the equator in central Sulawesi, the Togian Islands are often touted as one of the last remaining pieces of ‘untouched’ paradise. But there’s a catch: it’s in the arse end of nowhere and takes some serious effort to get there. Picture palm-lined beaches, powdery sands, crystal clear waters, and cheery locals motoring around in underpowered fishing boats. It’s been on the map for some years in divers circles, but more recently, the islands have started to attract everyday travellers willing to brave the lengthy journey. Spoiler alert – it’s entirely worth it!
So, About That Journey…
There are two main routes to the Togians: from the south or from the north. If you’re coming from the south, the mainland-hub is a place called Ampana, where you’ll catch a boat to Wakai, the Togians’ capital. The problem is, that getting to Ampana is a bit of an arse in itself – either a pricey flight or a marathon bus ride. On the upside, the final leg of this route on the boat to Wakai is just a couple of hours.
Our journey, however, began in Gorontalo to the north, a grotty coastal town with an airport you can fly to from Bali. It wasn’t a direct fight though, we had a stopover in Makassar, and at about £150, it was painful overall. We were quickly reminded that booking things earlier helps to cut costs! Sadly, after landing, you have to endure an hour long, bone-rattling taxi ride to the harbour, which only gets worse once you arrive at the ferry port! Facilities there are about as unsanitary as they get, even finding a clean place to sit is a challenge, and there is the added thrill of a meaty language barrier. Politely saying, “Terima kasih” (thank you), is not enough in places like this – Google Translate is your friend! Or, better yet, do what we did and find a local tour agent to bridge the gap and sort your tickets out. We paid a bit extra but were spared some serious hassle.
Ditch your Backpacker Attitude: Go VIP (Trust Me)
The overnight ferry from Gorontalo is twelve-hours long, probably not entirely safe and not exactly comfortable. But, it’s cheap – like, absurdly cheap. We reached deep into our pockets and splurged on a pair of VIP tickets at £6 each. Those bad boys scored us some air-conditioned dormitory bunks, alongside thirty-odd other folks. We lucked out and got snorers, coughers, and noisy kids all at once – jackpot! But hey, this was far more preferable to the other ticket options: a bunk without AC, or the floor next to boxes of noodles, chickens, and mopeds. Remember that this voyage runs through the night, so getting some semblance of sleep is pretty important!
By the time we finally arrived in Wakai, we had been travelling for two days, including a layover in Makassar and the night ferry. All of which I did with a truly horrendous case of ‘Bali Belly’ – my advice is do all you can to avoid getting sick before long journeys! On the upside, it did give me the opportunity to show off my greatest talent – holding in copious quantities of diarrhoea while partaking in a variety of outdoor activities, such as hiking or snorkelling. The trick is to breathe through the cramps, I imagine it’s a bit like being in labour. It’s just the tube in your mouth doesn’t feed you laughing gas, and there is a load of fish swimming around your face!
Anyway, once you arrive, find your guide or boat ride quickly. Wakai’s port is no better than Gorontalo’s. We wasted no time finding our guys, and headed straight to our first destination.
Our Guide, ‘Batong’… Or Was It ‘Bintong’?
Our tour guide was a local named Batong, although I repeatedly botched his name, calling him ‘Bintong’… A possible consequence of one too many Bintangs, the local beer! Nothing makes me feel older and stupider then calling someone by the wrong name repeatedly… I shudder. But Batong, good on him, was unfazed by my idiocy. He was fantastic, spoke enough English, and most importantly, he knew his way around. We had pre-arranged all of our plans through a fantastic contact named Lani, but be aware, unless you’re headed to a major diving resort, safety standards can be a bit lax among the locals and homestays. Boats may lack life jackets, and getting on and off them might involve clambering over rocks, broken piers or even through people’s homes. Fortunately, the seas were calm during our stay, so wrongly or rightly, we never felt unsafe… But, that potentially false sense of security would come back to bite us during our next stop after the Togian islands…
Life in the Togians: How it Works
The Togians are made up of several islands in all shapes and sizes, and with a range of places to stay. Most options are “homestays,” though they’re more like rustic, very crude beach resorts. Expect a simple beachside hut with a bed, torn mosquito nets, and a wet-room-style bathroom. This means the toilet, shower, and sink are all in one spot, so you can literally poop and shower at the same time. Also, don’t expect hot water, and electricity is only available in the evenings, usually from 6pm to midnight via generator.
You’ll eat breakfast, lunch and dinner at your homestay, because there is literally nowhere else to go. The food is basic but delicious: think rice, fish, and whatever else they can catch or store. Bottomless tea, coffee and filter water are standard. All this for about £25 per person per night – a total bargain! Higher-end diving resorts will cost you a lot more, but they offer bars, hot water, and all-you-can-eat electricity – they may even have intact mozzie nets!
First Stop: Bolilanga Island
Our first homestay was on Bolilanga Island, just over an hour’s leisurely boat ride from Wakai. It’s a tiny island, small enough to snorkel around in about an hour if you fancied it. I counted about six bungalows, including two over-water options. They’re basic, but clean, which is a welcome change after the marathon journey. But even if the bungalows were a bit gross, it wouldn’t matter because the location is so spectacular! The ‘house reef’ around the island was a snorkeler’s dream, with colourful corals, vibrant tropical fish in every shape and size – there were even a few baby reef sharks and turtles! Walking down the rickety wooden jetty was like being in an outdoor aquarium!
The only drawback of this paradisical place was the mosquitoes; they were relentless, especially in the bungalows. They seemed to hunt in well-organised gangs, lurking in the darker corners of your bedroom. Trying to deter them and avoid the bites was futile, so after two days, we were absolutely covered in bites.
Pro tip: unless you plan on getting wet, wear long sleeves and trousers while on the island and bring a stash of the mosquito repelling incense sticks, then spam your room with them at all times.
We couldn’t lounge around all the time: Excursions
Our excursion from Bolilanga included stops at California Reef, Jellyfish Lake, Karina Beach, and a local village. We arranged all of this with Lani beforehand, though you can set up trips with your homestay on a day-to-day basis. The budget-conscious option is to team up with other tourists to split boat costs – but honestly, I was glad we didn’t do this. Watching others try to coordinate plans to save a few quid usually resulted in unideal compromise, and often people ended up chartering their own boats anyway. Anyway, I’m happy to pay a bit more if it means skipping some socialising.
California Reef: The Beauty and The Trash
California Reef was incredible, with a brilliant array of coral and marine life, but the journey there somewhat overshadowed the reef itself. By which I mean, we had to bare-witness to the distressing amount of plastic in the water. On at least three occasions, our outboard motor got snared up in the stuff. It was surreal: looking down at the rainbow of colour below, while having to bat away an equally colourful array of sh*t floating around us. According to Batong, the local villages are responsible for most of the waste, due to having no infrastructure in place to handle the packaging and single use plastics that have crept into their daily life. In the not-so-distant past, consumerism and mass produced products weren’t a rarity in places like the Togians, but now they enjoy a snickers and a coke as much as anyone else! People, including the homestays, try to burn it in small secluded locations away from tourists, but that’s hardly a long-term or scalable solution.
Jellyfish Lake: A Lesson in Sunscreen
Jellyfish Lake is a briny lagoon, so it is spared from the tidal trash in the surrounding waters, but sadly, it has its own sad tale. Sea life, especially the stingless jellyfish here, hates sunscreen, and as a bald idiot, this poses an issue! Without sunscreen I run the very real risk of boiling away the last few remaining brain cells in my skull. Luckily, this wasn’t our first rodeo, and we knew about “reef-friendly” sunscreen. It’s a must when snorkelling, but many tourists don’t know or don’t care, and sadly, the jellyfish population is dwindling. We were still able to see hundreds of yellow and white jellyfish, but Batong said it used to be thousands. So, if you’re reading this, take heed and please wear eco-friendly sunscreen and spare a thought for the jellies!
Karina Beach: “Who Brought The Sarnies?”
Karina Beach could’ve been stunning, but we got a front-row seat to the realities of litter. Just like in the UK, families come together for picnics, but instead of setting up in a dog-poo-ridden country park, they use their local tropical island beach. Other than that, the rest is the same… People find the cleanest patch of ground to sit on, enjoy food and drink, make a symbolic attempt to clean up after themselves, then leave. This, combined with current of crud washing up at high tide, left the beach in a sad state.
Local Village Visit: Palm Sugar and Perspective
We finished the day trip with a wholesome visit to a local village, where I tried some mystery tropical fruit straight from the tree, and got a glimpse into Batong’s dad’s day job – making palm sugar. For seven hours a day, he sits over a fire in sweltering tropical heat, reducing what I think was sap from the surrounding palm trees – what a job! And it was made even more challenging by the countless cicadas, constantly screeching “kikikikikikiiiiiii”, like mini air-raid sirens. I have to say, the office jobs I bemoan so much, suddenly seemed like a dream! It’s amazing what a bit of perspective does, eh?
Oooooh, Pretty Sparklies!
That night, as we wandered down the jetty under the stars, I noticed something strange – a twinkling sparkle in the water. At first I thought it may just be reflection from the bazillion stars above, but after some staring and foot-swishing, I concluded that it was phytoplankton! This realisation caused a bit of a stir, and quickly the other guests dove in for a night swim, splashing around in the bioluminescence. If you haven’t done it before, your first time is completely surreal… I have seen a few people pop their plankton-cherries, and the reactions are always the same as my first time was – utter amazement. The good news, is that after some coercing, Mary-Ann decided to brave the evening dip. Just milliseconds after she submerged her face in the water, a muffled “f**king hell!”, blurted out the end of her snorkel – much to everyone’s amusement.
Interlude – The First ‘Asnakening’
Alright, that last bit was a tad gloomy. In truth, we had a fantastic day – saw some incredible sights and learned a lot. I’m just a grump old git, who reports things as I see them, brutal honesty and all. Back at Bolilanga, however, we were in for one last treat as we relaxed in the shallows, soaking up the late afternoon sun.
The homestay’s dog, an impressively idiotic creature, joined us. Despite his island life, he was still utterly baffled by the concept of water and waves. He’d sit chest-deep in the sea, staring blankly at the tiny waves that lapped around him, occasionally barking or snapping at them in excitement… or protest, I dunno. All I know is that you’ve got to love a dumb beach dog! Anyway, as we sat there, enjoying the blissful moment, the dog trotted over and assumed his position a meter or so to my left. Something was different this time though, he didn’t look empty headed and hypnotised by the sloshing waves. Instead, he seemed transfixed on something else. Suddenly, he dunked his face underwater and barked, then splashed around excitedly… My curiosity got the better of me, and I shifted onto my knees to see what he was so intrigued by.
Of course, there it was – a deadly sea snake, swimming directly toward us and being disturbed by the fearless, brainless dog, snapping at it like a squeaky toy.
Mary-Ann reacted immediately; before I could even say the dreaded “S” word, she was out of the water and gone. I, however, found myself in a dilemma – run for it, or try to stop the dog from a likely fatal bite?
…I chose the dog. Moving as carefully, but as hurriedly as I could, I grabbed him and scampered back to shore, trying to keep my feet in the water for as little time as possible with each step. Then naturally, once we were both safely out, I couldn’t resist going back to snap a few photos.
Second Stop – Malenge Island
Malenge is considerably bigger than Bolilanga, with a variety of homestays and resorts. It’s also a lot further from Wakai, especially if you head to the northern part of the island – it takes over two hours by boat. It’s worth it though, somehow Malenge Indah manages to be even more idyllic than Bolilanga.
The jungle on Malenge is pristine, with fluttering of butterflies, a chorus of birds, and sightings of coconut crabs – there were also far fewer mosquitoes. I suspect this might be due to the lack of standing water around our homestay compared to Bolilanga, which has a small area of mangrove. The bungalows were similar, clean and comfortable, but the whole ambiance of the homestay was nicer, more spacious and natural. The ‘house reef’ wasn’t quite as nice as Bolilanga’s, but it is larger, with some bigger fish darting around.
During our stay, the homestay also had a very unique character in its maintenance guy. We’d often see him on the beach, tidying up, knocking precarious coconuts down from trees, or tinkering with his boat. We exchanged smiles and polite greetings, but even simple questions like “toilet?”, accompanied with hand gestures and shrugging shoulders, was met with a steely language barrier and utter confusion. Or so we thought… On our second evening, we planned for a quiet night: dinner, then sitting outside with a drink to catch up on some admin tasks; but the mystery maintenance man had other ideas! He approached us, admiring Mary-Ann’s artwork and commenting, “Good! Good! I like.” Then just like that, he sat down and intensified, starting a conversation about NATO, global conflicts, the American election, and the injustices of the world. He shared his thoughts on the best universities for business and painted a sobering picture of why people like him and his family would never get the chance to attend one.
I was completely sideswiped – not only by his unexpectedly fluent English but by the depth of his knowledge. Caught off guard, I was unable to add anything intelligent to the conversation, I just babbled and drooled a little while staring at my incomplete admin tasks. It was an evening I hadn’t anticipated, but experiences like this are exactly what make traveling so fun!
Interlude – The Second ‘Asnakening’
“SCHLANGE!” screeched a rather strange German woman sitting across the dining area. She was a bit of an enigma: middle-aged, noticeably unfriendly, and apparently a “cryptocurrency trader” who was permanently glued to her phone. When the signal inevitably dropped – which is most of the time in Malenge – she would walk around looking lost and hollow, with alarms blaring from her phone every ten minutes. I still wonder what those alarms were for; she would just snooze them over and over again…
At this moment though, she was standing on a bench, quivering and pointing at the floor. Her panic quickly ripped through the dining area, and we all found ourselves halfway onto our own chairs before we had even spotted the cause: another deadly sea snake slithering its way through the room. I have no clue what it was doing there or how it managed to get in undetected, especially since it entered from the inland side!
The heroic homestay owner sprang into action, grabbing a nearby oar and began skilfully flicking the snake through the restaurant and out onto the beach. Although, watching the snake flying through the air suddenly made our chair-standing defence seem a little pointless, but he seemed to have it under control… I think.
Malenge – Excursions
Even without excursions, our beachfront bungalow at Malenge was so delightful we would’ve been perfectly content just hanging out there. Still, we had a few activities planned: a trip to ‘Reef 5’, a visit to a Bajo village, and a hike to a jungle bat cave.
Reef 5: Big, But Broken
Reef 5 is touted as the best one for snorkelling among Malenge’s surrounding reefs, but there are quite a few others to choose from. It lies about an hour offshore, which was farther than we’d expected. But, aside from the lack of lifejackets, the boat was comfortable, and the sea was calm. As for the reef itself – it’s huge and really gives you a sense of swimming over an underwater mountain range. Which is cool, but as far as coral goes, it’s bang-average in my opinion. You’ll only see hard corals, which although big, are a mix of unhealthy, bleached and destroyed; a sad result of the locals dynamite fishing the reefs around ten years ago. Overall, it was different and somewhat interesting, but not a spot I’d rush back to.
The Bajo Village: A Surprising Place
The Bajo people, known as the ‘sea gypsies,’ live in stilted houses over the water. After our snorkelling stop, we visited their local village, Palau Papan, to get an insight into their lifestyle. Which was eye opening, in a few ways… Initially, the turquoise, crystal clear water below the village was mesmerising, but it’s glass-like clarity meant the horrendously littered seabed was plain to see. Trash was piled a foot-deep in places; endless crisp packets, empty bottles, discarded can or paint and empty sacks of rice. It was quite gross, and to be frank, quite surprising, considering these people rely on the sea for their livelihood! Aside from that though, the village had a wonderfully chaotic charm: children chasing chickens down narrow, boarded walkways, old blokes flat on their backs snoring loudly in the patches of shade, dads trying to start boat engines while shooing kids away, and mums pottering around with armfuls of laundry or fish. One highlight was a beautiful wooden bridge connecting the village to the mainland, which, despite its proximity to the villages underwater crap-collection, was teeming with fish and fan corals of all colours.
The Bat Cave
Reaching the bat cave required a sweaty, 45-minute jungle trek, taking us past an abandoned coast guard tower that offered a stunning jungle vista from the top. The path took us on and off an old, disused road that’s now mostly reclaimed by the jungle, giving you a sense of ‘Indiana Jones style’ adventure and discovery. At the cave’s dark entrance, the overpowering stench of guano and ammonia was almost painful to breathe in. But as our eyes adjusted, we saw thousands of bats swirling inside the tunnels, truly like a DC movie scene! I’ve been to bat caves before, but this one was on another level! Apparently, the cave system goes on for hundreds of meters, and no one has found the end of it yet! I must be home to millions of bats – it was incredibly impressive!
Interlude – The Third ‘Asnakening’
Yep – that makes three close encounters with deadly sea snakes in five days. By this point, it had become a routine hazard! But this encounter may have been the worst yet, and came at a particularly unfortunate time for Mary-Ann, who’d only just started to feel comfortable while snorkelling.
After returning from the jungle cave trek, we were slick with jungley, sweaty hideousness, and were desperate for a dip to rinse off. So, we grabbed our masks and floated out over the “house reef” for a quick snorkel. Right away, we spotted an enormous stonefish, reminding us why we always wear water shoes! But, it wasn’t until we headed back, that I swam over a particularly shallow patch of coral and suddenly found myself within half a meter of the largest deadly sea snake yet. I quickly engaged my reverse gear, and yelped “snake” through my snorkel, then took five or six seconds to clumsily back away and turn around. In that time, Mary-Ann had already shot off like a torpedo, channelling her inner Michael Phelps, and was somehow already at least ten meters away! Unfortunately, she was heading right toward the stonefish we’d seen earlier… So, I tried to catch up, frantically hoping she’d remember not to stand anywhere rocky, but she was way too fast for me! I think we could have an Olympic swimmer on our hands here – I wonder what the rules are about dumping sea snakes in the pools?
Coconut Crabs: Friends, Not Food!
That evening, the NATO guy and I went out after dark in search of coconut crabs – I’d been hoping to see one. We did manage to spot some juvenile crabs, but none of the bigguns I was hoping for. The homestay owner explained that there aren’t many large ones left these days, because the locals used to hunt them for food. Fortunately, hunting them is now illegal, and the population is beginning to recover, though it takes time for them to reach their full size again!
That Was Basically It!
After our islands adventure, all that was left was the multi-hour boat ride back to Wakai, which Mary-Ann somehow managed to sleep through… She can’t sleep on a relatively comfortable plane or bus, but a wooden, rocky boat ride is ok…? I digress. We figured that once at the harbour, it would just be a simple matter of waiting to board the ferry, then hunkering down on our bunks for the night. Unfortunately, it almost turned out to be much more complicated – pay attention here, this is an important piece of information for anyone planning to visit the Togians!
The Long Boat Ride Home: A Crucial Tip!
Here’s the thing: you can’t book a VIP ferry ticket online, and I’m not even sure if economy tickets are available there either. You have to buy your ticket at Wakai harbour, where you can only get economy tickets. That means no bunks – just floor space, alongside the mopeds, chickens, and whatever else happens to get loaded onto the ferry. I gathered that it’s because before reaching Wakai, the ferry departs from Ampana (south of the Togians), where all the VIP tickets may or may not have already been sold to the people boarding there.
So, imagine a group of tourists being told they can’t secure their £6 VIP bunk. and are instead instructed to scramble for any remaining bunks onboard in a chaotic first-come, first-serve basis. It was carnage. Uncomfortable, awkward carnage.
A Smattering of Luck
Strangely enough, the Bali belly I mentioned earlier, that had blighted me enroute to the Togians, had one rather unexpected benefit. While in Gorontalo, I’d resorted to finding a local guide to help us out, mainly to access their toilet, but fortunately they gave me a contact in Ampana. This contact allowed us to pre-arrange VIP tickets even though we weren’t boarding at the ferries starting point. We had to pay a bit extra to cover the part of the journey we wouldn’t be on, something like £9 instead of £6, but it meant we had bunks waiting for us in Wakai. I can’t recommend this tip enough! (The VIP pre-arranging bit, not the Bali belly.)
Once onboard, we got as comfortable as we could, and watched the dog-eat-dog unfold around us. People were arguing, getting moved on by the staff, and even paying each other off for bunks! But eventually, things did calm down, just in time for the evening light to fade and an almighty storm to roll in… Rough seas meant that none of us got any sleep that night, meaning all the VIP ticket shenanigans were for nothing… Sigh!
Conclusion
The Togians are a truly incredible place, I’d go back in a heartbeat – there’s so much more to explore. While we only visited two relatively undeveloped islands, spots like Kadidiri and Una-Una are more established with more facilities. On the other hand, there are also islands that are even more that I’d love to explore! The whole place deals with everything with a slow-paced, relaxed attitude that I love, and it’s not totally overwhelmed by tourism! There’s bags and bags of pristine nature, and the scenery looks like something straight out of a painting… Well, except for all the rubbish of course.
That’s my only gripe: the plastic waste everywhere. It’s easy to forget about when you’re relaxing on the well-kept beaches of your homestay or resort, but it becomes glaringly obvious when you venture further afield. I’ve seen this issue in many places, but here in Indonesia, it does seem particularly bad. I really hope they find some way to tackle it!
Aside from that, the Togians were completely worth the trek. Including the ferry rides to and from Gorontalo, our five-day adventure cost just under five hundred pounds, which for the experience we had, is a complete bargain in my opinion! Of course, you can do it cheaper, but it requires a lot more effort and planning. But however you decide to do it, I assure you that it is absolutely worth it!
Stay bald folks.
Toodles,
Jack
