Traditionally, the
Bajau resided
in small boats,
sailing day and
night with the
currents, relying
only on their
fishing gear to
make a living.
MANAGING WITH A VAGUE HOPE
While trying to find a solution on how to cross
over to the other side, which only takes an hour by
motorboat, I was amazed at how difficult it was to
find someone who would agree to take me. Indeed,
the few specialized agencies in the area refuse to sail
anywhere but to the resorts. I was therefore forced to
find a solution on the pier, walking for hours along
the waterfront as I addressed the fishermen moored
for the day, but unfortunately, no one spoke English.
When I finally managed to make myself understood,
they gave me exorbitant and unjustified prices. I had
no choice but to sleep on site, being careful to stay on
my guard and keep my head down. In recent years,
tourist kidnappings have become pretty common on
this part of the island. Sometimes Islamist terrorist
groups track down holidaymakers, follow them in
order to establish the appropriate time to kidnap
them, and then demand a ransom for their release.
In November 2013, a Taiwanese tourist was killed
in one of the bungalows at the resort where he was
staying. Tension is omnipresent and kidnappings are
becoming more and more frequent in this seemingly
paradisiacal destination. Soldiers are everywhere to be
seen in the main tourist areas but not on most of the
islands I was planning to visit.
At the heart of this dangerous environment and
concerned for my safety, I was almost about to give
up. But my patience paid off. One morning I finally
saw my chance to reach the islands after meeting a
man named Karim, a Bajau who could speak a few
words of English. This was a huge stroke of luck for
the photographer who was longing to meet these
people. Karim offered to take me to the islands
inhabited by members of his ethnic group. He
seemed surprised by my request, being as most of the
travelers usually want to go straight to the lagoon’s
coral reefs, and have no real wishes to meet the locals.
But, touched by my interest, he accepted to take me
with him, and we embarked on an expedition through
Malaysian waters.
IN THE WORLD OF REAL MERMEN
Traditionally, the Bajau resided in small boats, sailing
day and night with the currents, relying only on their
fishing gear to make a living. This is how they earned
the title, "the nomads of the seas". Others used to
live in hiding, and many still live in remote floating
villages built on coral reefs within the trough of the
lagoon. Today, many have come ashore to live on the
small islands but continue to cultivate their nautical
mastery while weighing their fish on a small scale.
I was curious to know more about these men and
women who have chosen to live remote lives, far away
from the cities and their temptations. The sight that
awaited me made my whole being tremble as I saw in
the distance, on the horizon, an island lost in the royal
blue immensity. I had arrived at Tabbalanos island.
The ship dropped anchor within reach of a tiny island
on which only a single tree stood against the sun. I
was immediately struck by the magic of the place: a
swing was hanging proudly on one of the branches,
indicating the presence of children, who quickly
came running out towards the boat, intrigued by the
presence of this newcomer.
TRAVELLIVE
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