When Dragons Attack: Staying Alert on Komodo Island

One from the archives. I wrote this web article about a trip I made to Komodo Island for the now defunct travel blog Momentum, from Starwood Hotels.

Komodo Island rose jagged and prehistoric in the sun as our boat put-putted toward the pink sand.

“If they come for you, don’t run. Just move aside.” That was Juventius, our Indonesian guide. “Don’t run,” he repeated.

Palms with leaves like chainsaws cast scant shade as our group marched in single file into the forest. Every broken branch and curled root looked like a lizard; strangling creepers like the vipers we’d also been cautioned about.

Then, in a clearing ahead, four dragons, ten feet long, sprawled on the ground. The colour of dirt, their forked tongues tasted the air, yellow eyes staring coldly. One raised itself on its front legs, neck muscles bulging. Despite their apparent lethargy, the encounter was unnerving. Like a meeting of two species that don’t belong in the same era.

These carnivores have ruled Indonesia’s Komodo Island and neighbouring Rinca for close to a million years. Locals claim the bite of a komodo dragon is toxic with deadly bacteria. Scientists assert that shock and blood loss are the primary causes of death in the event of a dragon attack.

Fortunately, attacks on humans are rare, and mostly confined to the 2,000 Buginese people that share the island with these ancient predators. But dragons won’t think twice about swallowing a goat whole, or even taking down a water buffalo.

“Remember - they only attack when you are not alert,” Juventius said.

Unfortunately, Juventius was caught napping the day he was attacked by a komodo dragon.

“It came very slowly, totally silently. I didn’t hear it. I didn’t see it.”

The year was 2005 and Juventius, now the boss of his own company, Komodo Mega Tours, was working for another operator out of Bali. It was a particularly hot summer’s day, and his customers – a film crew – had retreated to the cool of their boat to shoot the island from offshore.

With a couple of hours to kill, Juventius left the stifling heat of the cafeteria and sought out a patch of shade under the surrounding trees.

“I’d been coming to the island for nine years, so I was very experienced. I thought that I was used to the dragons, I knew them.” He laughed. “I even thought they were my friends.”

Just as he was lolling to sleep, the attack came.

“The second the dragon tasted my blood he went into a fury. It drove him crazy. I knew I had to fight to get free, or I would die.”

Juventius cried for help, but none came. He fought for seven minutes, eventually ripping his arm free, breaking his elbow joint in the process and losing a lot of skin and blood.

“Dragons live for 50 years, but they are most dangerous when they are about 20 to 25 years old because they are strong and very fast. He was at the most dangerous age.”

The dragon chased him all the way back inside the cafeteria, where Juventius resumed his battle for survival from the top of a table, using a chair to desperately fend off the predator. Finally, rangers from the nearby station rushed to help.

“There was a lot of blood. Eventually, I think the dragon’s back was broken, and we managed to throw it from the cafeteria. Even then, as it lay on the floor in a strange position, it was licking at my spilled blood.”

Juventius was flown to Bali, 800km away, and took four months to recover. He was back on Komodo Island soon after. A year later to the day, there was another dragon attack. Though non-fatal, it was a bad omen, leading to more than a few absentees from work on that same day another year on.

A decade later, Juventius is still coming to Komodo, guiding groups like ours.

We wheeled around the four dragons and trekked through the wooded hinterland between beach and savannah, up to higher ground. Sweeping views of the island, all 280 square kilometres of it, greeted us - the Eocene-era home of around 6,000 apex giants.

Dark burrows scarred the mars-like surface. In these caverns the dragons take shelter and the females lay their eggs, around thirty a year. Less than a quarter of the infants survive. What the eagles don’t take, the dragons sometimes eat themselves.

I asked Juventius what he thinks about Komodo dragons today.

“I think they are a unique animal. Very special.”

We gazed at Satalibo, the highest peak of the island, rising over 700 metres above the dark depths of the Sawu Sea.

“A few years ago a senior park ranger, very experienced, was in his office on Komodo Island, catching up on paperwork. He forgot to close the door. The dragon came in and got him under the desk.”

Juventius grinned. “They only attack when you are not alert. The ranger spent a month in Bali, recovering. He’s fine now. But when he gives the daily safety briefing to tourists, looking very serious, the other rangers have to smile a little.”