Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22 The city of Jakarta had come alive as though at once, in an explosive roar. Outside their hotel, Dan and Amy stood in amazement, watching the trucks, cars, bicycles, and taxis tangle and untangle on the street. Palm trees waved overhead in the breeze, and the sidewalk was packed with people hurrying to work. "It'll take us hours to get anywhere," Amy said. Was she always this negative, or did Dan just notice it more when he was mad at her? "Not if we take one of those." Dan pointed down the street. Heading toward them was an orange scooter with three wheels and an open cabin in the back. Dan waved. "What are you doing?" "It's a taxi," Dan said. "This thing doesn't have to wait in traffic, either." The driver pulled over. "You need a Bajaj? Easy

ride, very cheap, and fast, too. I go everywhere." "Can you take us to boats?" Dan asked. "Harbor?" "Harbor, yes, of course. No worries! Hop in!" They climbed into the back. The driver took off. Amy's head slammed back from the acceleration. "Sweet!" Dan cried. He couldn't help it. The scooter dodged between cars and trucks. It made lanes where there were no lanes. It scooted down alleys and rattled through tiny streets. It almost mowed down pedestrians. Dan's head filled with the smell of gasoline and smog, and the noises of the city pressed against him. It was like being in the center of a roaring, rattling machine. He loved Jakarta. The streets got narrower as their driver zoomed along. Suddenly, they could smell the sea. The driver slowed down, and they passed a market where brightly colored beach umbrellas were stuck in the ground, shading blankets where men in shorts and flip-flops sat selling baskets of fish. They were calling out in high-pitched voices, throwing money around like crazy, and he wished

they could stop and check it out. Ahead they saw masts and colorful sails. The driver pulled up near the harbor. Dan held out a hand filled with crumpled bills, and the driver took some out. "Do you need a tour?" He swept a hand, taking in the harbor. "I know it all. My cousin owns a fishing boat. Best boat in the harbor, best pilot." "We want to go to Krakatau," Amy said. He shook his head. "Active now… you can't land on Krakatau." "Would your cousin… take us there? Just to look?" Dan asked. "Long trip, take all day." "That's okay." Dan expected the next words out of the man's mouth to be "Where are your parents?" He knew the guy was thinking it. Dan mutely held out a fistful of money. "Sure," the driver said, grabbing it. "No worries!" The driver's cousin's name was Darma, and the

boat, which seemed good-sized and sturdy at the dock, was suddenly small and flimsy once they'd chugged out into open sea. Amy and Dan sat in the back watching Darma smiling and pointing out sights. They couldn't hear what he was saying over the motor. He had two men as his crew who spoke no English, but smiled at Amy and Dan if they happened to catch their eyes. The bow thumped against the sea, and the smell of fish was overpowering. Amy clutched the rail, looking a little green. Dan faced the open water, the wind in his face. The water was a brilliant turquoise, and off to the side he could see a string of islands. Smaller fishing boats tacked across the bay. After traveling for some time, they saw a point ahead. They were going to round the corner of Java, Dan guessed. He knew Krakatau was to the west. Darma yelled something at them and laughed. Amy turned to Dan. "What did he say?" "I think something about Sunday and ships. Is

today Sunday? Did we cross the international date line again? Do I have to repeat fourth grade?" "He must have said Sunda. As in Sunda Strait. After we round the corner of Java, we'll be in it. It's the channel between Java and Sumatra. And it's the way to Rakata. That's the island that Anak Krakatau is on. You see, the island of Krakatau imploded, but another island took its place. It means 'Child of Krakatau,' and—" "I know you can't help yourself," Dan said. "But please stop." "Shipping channel!" Darma yelled. This time they heard him perfectly. He smiled and laughed. "When we cross, hang on!" The water got choppier as they rounded the point. Darma steered the boat closer to the shoreline, and the water smoothed out. The beach looked beautiful, and the hills rose behind them in smoky greens and grays. Across the blue water was Sumatra. I am on a boat between Java and Sumatra, Dan thought. How cool is that? He was just starting to regret not packing a

lunch when the crew set out bowls full of coconut rice. Dan and Amy feasted while they watched the larger cargo ships out in the strait. The sun was high overhead when Darma signaled to them. "Okay, crossing the strait now." He pointed. "There is Rakata." They could see it now, the island with the volcanic peak of Anak Krakatau, the child of Krakatau. Dan felt a chill along his spine. Darma headed out into the strait, weaving the fishing boat through the busy traffic in the channel with skill. Gigantic cargo ships steamed by, sending their small boat rocking in their wakes. At last they sailed into quieter waters, past islands thick with palm trees and beckoning beaches. They were in the middle of a tropical paradise. It must have looked similar to this when Robert Cahill Henderson first arrived. Except that where the mighty Krakatau once rose from the sea, now a new mountain was rising. It was flat on top, and the white smoke was mixed with gray. Dan heard a rumble of thunder but hardly registered it. He was too much in awe of the sight in front of him. Somehow you could feel the power of it, of how