The Southeast Asian nation of Timor-Leste, known in the local Tetum language as Timór Lorosa’e (“where the sun rises”), comprises the eastern part of the island of Timor. Pierre Constant tells of his journey to explore its beautiful reefs and mysterious caves.
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Since arriving in Dili, I had been woken every day by the call of the muezzin at 5:30 a.m. With its historical Portuguese background, I had been under the impression that Timor-Leste (also known as East Timor) would be predominantly Christian. But the mosque behind the guest house where I was staying reminded me that the country had also been under Indonesian rule for almost 25 years, from 1975 to 1999. So, the Muslim influence made sense.
It took only 1.5 hours to fly from Bali to Dili on Air Timor, with a one-hour time difference. Looking out of the plane window, I noticed the mountainous landscape covered in clouds. The weather was perfect as the plane descended to Nicolau Lobato International Airport.
A short time later, after my bags were dropped off at the Dive Timor Lorosae Guest House, I met Virginie, the French manager, and Francisco, the jovial Chilean instructor—not to mention Gatito, the little jumpy cat. They had only arrived in Timor-Leste three months earlier. Consequently, they were pretty new to the area. I immediately felt at home and would spend the next ten days with them. I returned to my lodgings to settle in and get my gear together. The next day, the diving would begin.
Timor-Leste is located at the far eastern end of the Indonesian archipelago, beyond the chain of islands known as the Lesser Sundas, which include Bali, Lombok, Sumbawa, Flores and Alor. Timor-Leste is 365km long and 100km wide, covering an area of 14,610 km2. With a population of over one million, it lies south of the equator between 8°17S and 10°22S latitude and 123°25E and 127°19E longitude. It is separated from New Guinea (West Papua) and the Moluccas to the northeast by the Banda Sea and from Australia to the south by the Indian Ocean. Darwin, the capital of Australia’s Northern Territory, is only 720km away (as the bird flies) or one hour and 10 minutes by plane from Dili.
Geology of Timor
As the largest of the non-volcanic islands of the Outer Banda Arc (which includes Buru, Ceram, Leti, Tanimbar, Kai, Timor and Roti), Timor is mainly composed of calcareous sediments. Geologically speaking, it is part of the Australian Plate that is in subduction under the Asian Plate, which began moving northwards 18 million years ago (during the Miocene). Timor is a fragment of Australia that broke off and drifted towards the Sunda Islands.
The Banda Arc, situated between the Sahul Shelf of Australia and the Sunda Shelf of Southeast Asia, has been subject to crustal instability since the Cretaceous period. It is precisely this subduction of the former under the latter that created the volcanic arc of the Sunda Islands, as plate frictions at depth provoked cracks in the Asian Plate. As a result, a line of volcanoes was born out of the ocean.

Biogeography
In the 19th century, the English naturalist Alfred Russell Wallace, co-founder of the Theory of Evolution with Charles Darwin, discovered a natural boundary between Australian-New Guinea and the Asian influences— that is, for plants and animals. This boundary (between Bali-Lombok and Borneo-Sulawesi) was named the Wallace Line. Timor is, therefore, part of the Australia-New Guinea sphere, and its people are closer to the Melanesian than the Asiatic world.
Climate and conditions
East Timor has a wet tropical monsoonal climate, with hot summers, wet and dry seasons and monsoonal rainfall. The wet season extends from November/December to April, with an average temperature of 28.9°C, when the northwest monsoon from the South China Sea brings heavy rains. Triggered by the dry southeast trade winds from Australia, the dry season runs from May to November, with temperatures around 18.8°C.
Diving
Volker Katzung, the 54-year-old German owner of Dive Timor Lorosae, established the dive centre in 2003. He formed a partnership with Mark Mialszygrosz from Bali. He previously owned a dive centre in Koh Tao (Thailand) and managed dive shops in Bohol (Philippines), Truk (Micronesia), Sulawesi (Manado) and Bali (Indonesia).
Two other dive centres operate in Dili—Compass Charters, which runs boat trips to Atauro Island, and the land-based Aquatica Ventures. Diving in Timor takes place mainly along the northern coast. About 20 dive sites are located to the west and east of Dili, all accessed by minibus. Shore entry is the norm. The best time of year for diving is the dry season since visibility is affected by the rains and the discharge of sediment from the many rivers that flow into the sea.
Tasi Tolu. At around 8:30 a.m., Francisco took me out, along with a Canadian couple, for a short drive west of Dili. The dive site was Tasi Tolu. Under the curious eyes of passing schoolchildren, we geared up on the edge of a salt-and-pepper beach next to a sports field.
Here, a shallow coral reef led to a dark sandy bottom and a silty slope down to 20m. “A muck dive,” explained Francisco. “Watch out for the aggressive clownfish. I have been bitten on the lips before!”
As I glided down the slope, there were lots of sea pens, Cavernularia sp., Virgularia sp. and Pteroeides sp. that caught my attention. The pinkish-brown soft corals on thick stalks looked like funny broccoli. Feather stars were everywhere. Anemones were home to Clark’s anemonefish or black and white banded panda anemonefish. These came at me immediately, fluttering frantically about like butterflies.
At depth, various sponges and barrel sponges hosted a few dwarf lionfish and honeycomb groupers. A dark grey seahorse clung to an anchor on the sand. At the top of the slope, a colony of Taylor’s garden eels (Heteroconger taylori) that were white and black-speckled fed on zooplankton in the current.

Dili Rock. This rocky outcrop jutting out into the sea was our second dive. The slope plunged to 30m, and the coral ridge supported a few gorgonians, barrel sponges and tube sponges. The fish action was also good, with small schools of bluestripe snappers (Lutjanus kasmira), bigeye snappers (Lutjanus lutjanus) and silvery gold-lined snappers with slanting yellow lines on their upper sides—a species I had never seen before.
There were several species of scorpionfish, bicolour angelfish and surgeonfish. Francisco pointed out a pink-leaf scorpionfish and a white, speckled gold-leaf fish. A couple of bluefin jacks passed by, and some large blue trevally (Carangoides ferdau) with black vertical stripes came by briefly to check me out. I noticed several pink skunk anemonefish (Amphiprion perideraion) and some attractive red and black anemonefish (Amphiprion melanopus). The visibility was not too good at depth.
Heading east
Virginie took charge the following day, with four Australian divers joining us for a pleasant drive east of Dili. The coastal road wound up and down in hairpin turns over rocky ridges, with picturesque viewpoints overlooking the Wetar Strait and some mangrove areas. Our destination was the village of Bahau, 1.5 hours away. Coconut groves and banana and corn plantations were found along the way.
Bahau. Diving off the beach again, we swam backwards for about 50m before reaching the slope and a small drop-off. At depth, there were sponges and gorgonians galore, with blue and gold fusiliers (Caesio teres), snappers and schools of anthias streaming by. A giant clam was a welcome sight.
Secret Garden. A picnic in the shade of a large tree was followed by a dive at Secret Garden, near Black Rock, on the way back. Despite all the fishing lines and nets underwater, I saw bubble coral and black coral bushes, squarespot anthias (Pseudanthias pleurotaenia) with clouds of yellow females, purple anthias (Pseudanthias tuka), diagonal sweetlips (Plectorhinchus lineatus), oriental sweetlips (Plectorhinchus vittatus), long-nosed emperors (Lethrinus olivaceus) and regal angelfish. There were also bluefin jacks (Caranx melampygus) on the hunt.

Atauro Island
The Australians suggested that I join them for a couple of dives at Atauro Island, the “must-do” dive site in Timor-Leste. Knowing that diving at Atauro Island was rarely scheduled, I jumped at the chance. Compass Charters ran a daily water taxi service to Atauro Island but only conducted dives there upon request. The opportunity was not to be missed, as the weather was great!
Powered by twin 225hp Honda outboards, the US coaster Lancet departed Dili harbour at 7:30 a.m. for a 1.5-hour crossing in calm seas. North of Dili is Atauro, a volcanic island between the 5,000m deep Ombai Strait and the 3,000m deep Wetar Strait to the south. The fast-flowing east-west current is actually the result of the Indo-Pacific throughflow, which runs from northeast to southwest from the Pacific Ocean into the Indian Ocean, defining the rich biodiversity of the so-called Coral Triangle.
As we neared the village of Beloi on the east coast, a mixed pod of dolphins and short-finned pilot whales made a happy appearance. Melon-headed whales were also spotted in the pod. What a show! Some even jumped out of the water with glee.
Located 36km north of Dili, Atauro is 25km long and 9km wide, with a total land surface area of 105km2. Its mountainous volcanic spine, running from north to south, is bordered by two narrow coastal plains of weathered coral limestone. Cliffs and deep gullies are prominent in the west.
Red Buoy and Green Buoy. Dives on the inner and outer reefs were made from the village’s beachfront, which was actually the local’s fishing ground! Anyway, these dive sites were right in front of Barry’s place. Barry was a charming Australian fellow married to a local woman who had a guest house in a flower garden—our spot for lunch that day.
Atauro Island had clear water with great visibility—there were no rivers here to carry sediment into the sea. Steep drop-offs plummeted into the depths. The variety of hard and soft corals (Dendronephthya sp.) was breathtaking, as were the tube sponges, barrel sponges and gorgonians.
At depth, the gorgonian sea fans were two to three metres wide. Stunning Spondylus oysters adorned the cracks in the reef wall. Sea whips (Ellisella sp.) undulated gracefully like fine red locks of hair flowing in the current. Schools of unicornfish, neon fusiliers (Pterocaesio tile) and blue and gold fusiliers were the norm. A Napoleon wrasse and a polka dot grouper were nice sightings, as were a semi-circled angelfish (Pomacanthus semicirculatus), a juvenile longfin batfish (Platax teira), wrasses, snappers, sweetlips and a school of pyramid butterflyfish (Hemitaurichthys polylepis).
Manta Cove. A few days later, I returned to Atauro Island on Dive Timor’s new boat. At Manta Cove, on the southeastern tip of the island, the wall dropped straight down to 33m on a sandy slope. Fish life included black snappers, midnight snappers, red snappers, elongated unicornfish, diagonal and ribbon sweetlips and a school of queen triggerfish. I stumbled across a beautiful scrawled filefish by chance, as well as a banded sea krait on the hunt.
K41. On the north coast of Timor-Leste, the experienced local Timorese dive master Juvy asked me, “Have you ever been to K41—a good dive site 41km east of Dili?” Its beach entry led to a small wall curving to the right, where I found an old specimen of black coral covered in a colony of leopard anemones (Amphianthus sp.). It was exquisitely beautiful. Below the drop-off, the slope had decent fish life, with a school of gold-striped sweetlips (Plectorhinchus chrysotaenia), ribboned sweetlips (Plectorhinchus polytaenia) and bigeye snappers. On the way down, a juvenile whitetip shark zoomed by. Spondylus oysters were again present, as well as a variety of attractive sponges.
Dili Rock. Early dives before sunrise or night dives could be arranged upon request, and Dili Rock was the choice today. It had a sandy slope and a coral ridge with bommies and gorgonians. There was a bonanza of hermit crabs and decorator crabs. A Vlaming’s unicornfish was asleep in its camouflage colours. There was also a dark crimson-red pleurobranchid sea slug (Pleurobranchus forskalii) and a painted lobster in a crevice. Down on the sandy bottom at 21m, Francisco discovered a giant left-eye flounder and a magnificent red and electric blue oriental flying gurnard (Dactyloptena orientalis)—the highlight of this dive.

Pertamina Pier. My last dive with Juvy took me to Pertamina Pier. Considered excellent in the right season, it can be a miserable experience with poor visibility at the wrong time of year. The beach entry requires a 100m swim before you reach the end of the jetty, which is used by the Indonesian oil company Pertamina for some pipelines.
The steel pilings were covered with gorgonians, and hard and soft corals hosted lionfish (Pterois antennata), pufferfish, scorpionfish and trumpetfish. At the end of the pier, the current was sometimes strong. A school of mackerel passed by, and two pinnate batfish were hiding among the broken metal structures.
Far to the east
I knew from hearsay that the best diving in Timor-Leste for clear water and big pelagics was around the islands of Com and Jaco, far to the east. The only problem was access and logistics. Com was at least six to seven hours away by car. Tutuala, the gateway to Jaco island, was around nine hours away. Unless you hired your own vehicle, which was rather expensive at US$100 per day plus the driver’s food and lodging, it was virtually impossible or unrealistic to bring all your diving equipment and tanks by public transport.
I tried my luck with local transportation anyway, which was hectic and time-consuming, even with just my snorkelling gear and underwater camera! A bus took me to Lautem on the way to Los Palos, and from there, a 15km road branched off to Com. Unfortunately, I arrived early in the afternoon after an exhausting 7.5 hours on the bus. “No more cars for the rest of the day!” I was told.
Stranded in Lautem for the night, I was hosted by SOLS 24/7, a community school in an old Portuguese building that taught English and the “sense of life”. The people there were very friendly and keen to meet foreigners. “Do not go wandering on the beach at night. It is full of marauding crocodiles!” I was told.

On to Valu Sere
The next morning, I continued my journey on a couple of mini-trucks passing through Los Palos. The village of Tutuala was the heart of the Fataluku culture, with a strong Papuan background. A local guide called Gonzalo, who had been recommended to me by his son in Dili, was waiting for me.
The guest house was in Valu Sere. Tutuala’s beach was 8km away. “No transport. We have to walk!” Gonzalo boasted with a smile. I frowned at the thought of trekking down steep terrain on a fairly bad road suitable only for four-wheel drive. On top of that, I was carrying two rather heavy bags, plus the snorkelling equipment in a mesh bag. Just my luck!
At the top of a bluff was a Portuguese-era “pousada” (inn) overlooking the Wetar Strait. I marvelled at the expanse of jungle between the hills. Fringed by a coral reef, the pristine coastline was bordered by turquoise waters that turned dark cobalt blue at the drop-off—a lure for a diver like me. “Don’t even think about it!” Gonzalo puffed after I asked him about a possible path down. “Three months ago, a fisherman skin diving with a harpoon got taken by a large crocodile!” The place was so dangerous because it was where a river meets the sea.
With Gonzalo’s help carrying my mesh bag, I set off, bravely hiking under the scorching sun. Fortunately, the shade of the forest brought relief.
The easternmost tip of Timor-Leste is very mountainous and made up of white coral reef limestone of the Baucau Formation (Pliocene), which is hard and truly cavernous. The whole area is covered in a lush virgin jungle with huge banyan trees.
Lene Hara Cave. After an hour and 45 minutes, we reached Lene Hara Cave—an impressive limestone cave with stalactites, stalagmites and pillars. In March 2001, some roving archaeologists discovered fragments of carved seashells, evidence of the first human occupation of Timor as early as 38,000 years ago.
With Gonzalo on watch at the entrance, I ventured inside with a bright torch for the next 15 minutes. On the outside wall, there were paintings that looked like suns in a pattern of black triangular lines with red and green inclusions. The slim figure of a warrior in red was shooting with a bow and arrow. Archaeologists say that Timor may have been a stepping stone on the route humans took to Australia and New Guinea 55,000 years ago. Mind-blowing.
Ile Kere-Kere. Before leaving Tutuala, I visited another cave with Asio, the son of the traditional owner of Ile Kere-Kere (“The Right Mount”). Hanging from the cliff, overlooking the sea and the northern end of Jaco Island, was a cave of cultural significance. Inside the cave, 12,500-year-old paintings were discovered, with human warrior figures and a stencilled handprint cast on the wall. Huge beehives hung from the ceiling between the large stalactites. The ancestors used to collect honey from bees with the help of wooden structures.

Tutuala Beach
We stopped at the Valu Sere Guest House on Tutuala Beach. I dropped my bags with a sigh of relief, but then my expression immediately changed. “Sorry, no food!” I was told. Alas, the little bamboo hut would be fine for the night. A packet of coconut biscuits and a can of tuna would help me survive, washed down with a can of Tiger Beer.
After a peaceful night at the end of the world, I awoke before dawn. From the beach, behind a row of pandanus trees, the sunrise was postcard-perfect. I was ready for Jaco Island! But I had to wait two hours for a fisherman to take me across. The boat ride took only three minutes, but the raging current that flowed through the channel was scary enough to dissuade anyone from trying to swim to the island.
Jaco Island
The powdery white sand was a truly inviting scene for any dreamer. Jaco Island was an uplifted coral reef. Wave action had carved a two-meter-high shelf inland. After donning my mask, fins and snorkel, I gazed at a coral garden beneath the surface of gin-clear water. Bommies were scattered across the white sandy bottom.
I encountered the usual reef fishes, but drifting west, I found a concentration of fish life. A juvenile hawksbill turtle and a juvenile grey reef shark cruised by, and then a large school of gold-striped sweetlips showed up. In the middle of the crowd, a giant grouper (Epinephelus lanceolatus) stared at me, dumbfounded—an unexpected sight! Out of the blue, a school of black jacks and giant jacks zoomed towards me, close and personal, wide-eyed as if they had never seen a “malai” skin diver before. Finally, a great barracuda, equally inquisitive, joined the club. Yes, this was the authentic feeling and unspoilt environment I had come to see in Timor-Leste!
I fancied drifting in a blissful state with a tank on my back. The wild frontier of diving in Timór Lorosa’e is indeed where the sun rises on the eastern horizon.
Final thoughts
On my last night, I dined at the Nautilus restaurant on Dili’s waterfront. Chatting with Bruce, the Australian owner and long-time resident, I related my adventures and miseries. It seemed a strong fever had struck me all of a sudden. “This country is hard… but I love this country,” he confessed as we watched some local fishermen push their canoe out to sea into the darkness. “You know, to every dark cloud, there is a silver lining…” Indeed, I had brought back a nasty souvenir, called the chikungunya virus, from my night at the community school in Lautem. I wondered what my silver lining might be. After thoughtful consideration, I found it: Chikungunya, if it doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger. ■
Sources: Wikipedia, iNaturalist