Leaving Bileling, a pleasant sail of two days brought us to Ampanam in the
island of Lombock, where I proposed to remain till I could obtain a passage to
Macassar. We enjoyed superb views of the twin volcanoes of Bali and Lombock,
each about eight thousand feet high, which form magnificent objects at sunrise
and sunset, when they rise out of the mists and clouds that surround their bases,
glowing with the rich and changing tints of these the most charming moments in
a tropical day.
The bay or roadstead of Ampanam is extensive, and being at this season
sheltered from the prevalent southeasterly winds, was as smooth as a lake. The
beach of black volcanic sand is very steep, and there is at all times, a heavy surf
upon it, which during spring-tides increases to such an extent that it is often
impossible for boats to land, and many serious accidents have occurred. Where
we lay anchored, about a quarter of a mile from the shore, not the slightest swell
was perceptible, but on approaching nearer undulations began, which rapidly
increased, so as to form rollers which toppled over onto the beach at regular
intervals with a noise like thunder. Sometimes this surf increases suddenly
during perfect calms to as great a force and fury as when a gale of wind is
blowing, beating to pieces all boats that may not have been hauled sufficiently
high upon the beach, and carrying away uncautious natives. This violent surf is
probably in some way dependent upon the swell of the great southern ocean and
the violent currents that flow through the Straits of Lombock. These are so
uncertain that vessels preparing to anchor in the bay are sometimes suddenly
swept away into the straits, and are not able to get back again for a fortnight.
What seamen call the "ripples" are also very violent in the straits, the sea
appearing to boil and foam and dance like the rapids below a cataract; vessels
are swept about helplessly, and small ones are occasionally swamped in the
finest weather and under the brightest skies.
I felt considerably relieved when all my boxes and myself had passed in safety
through the devouring surf, which the natives look upon with some pride,
saying, that "their sea is always hungry, and eats up everything it can catch." I
was kindly received by Mr. Carter, an Englishman, who is one of the Bandars or
licensed traders of the port, who offered me hospitality and every assistance
during my stay. His house, storehouses, and offices were in a yard surrounded by
a tall bamboo fence, and were entirely constructed of bamboo with a thatch of
grass, the only available building materials. Even these were now very scarce,
owing to the great consumption in rebuilding the place since the great fire some
months before, which in an hour or two had destroyed every building in the
town.