The amazing red crab migration of Christmas Island

by Gadling Staff on

Experiencing the annual red crab migration on Christmas Island is an amazing sight. This remote landmass, named for the day it was discovered in 1643, is an Australian territory that’s considered “the Galapagos of the Indian Ocean.” Sparsely populated, Christmas Island is ringed by the most hauntingly beautiful limestone cliffs, and shaped something like a tiered wedding cake. Each year, Christmas Island’s beaches are filled with an annual migration of millions of the local red crabs.

While there are fourteen species of land crabs living on the island, the sheer numbers of the animals during migration season (estimated to be as many 100-120 million crabs) is something visitors will never forget. In addition, each adult female crab gives birth to an estimated 100,000 babies!

From October through December, adult crabs make their way from the interior forests to the beaches to spawn. It is a slow-moving stampede. While the crabs are not aggressive, seeing a moving wave like a gigantic seafood smorgasbord is a little terrifying. Some of the animals are 50 or 60 years old, and they are very large (nearly 5 inches long). The males are larger, and the females have daintier claws. The colors of the crabs vary: some are orange and coral-red, with a rare purple animal now and then. They eat almost anything, including grass, fresh or rotting leaves, and even dung!

The annual crab migration has a significant effect on the activities of Christmas Island residents. Signs that announce “Crabs cross here” are posted across the island. Crabs on the golf course create special rules during the migration, and shouts of “holy crab!” are heard often. They surround houses, get into the laundry and enter schools. Residents have even developed special crab-related expressions in honor of this strange event. Saying that someone “has a face like a smashed crab” is not a compliment, and “He’s off like a bucket of red crabs in the hot sea” is something better understood after experiencing the event.

While some locals do eat the red crabs, (they are edible and delicious) crab dinners are frowned upon by local government. Each year up to two million of the red crabs fail to complete their marathon journey because of hungry residents, squashing by cars, dehydration (it’s a long walk from the forest) and even cannibalism (watching them eat each other is terrifying!). The smell of dead crabs creates a pungent and unappetizing.

Jimmy Buffett once penned a song about this peculiar island: “How’d you like to spend Christmas on Christmas Island? How’d you like to spend the holiday away across the sea? How’d you like to spend Christmas on Christmas Island? How’d you like to hang a stocking on a great big coconut tree?” Buffett neglected to mention one very important detail: this Christmas “paradise” is swarming with millions of red crustaceans. Talk about false advertising!

** Images courtesy of the Wikimedia Commons Project **

DMZ water coming to a Korean grocery store near you

by Tom Johansmeyer on

With all the bottled water you’ll find on grocery store shelves these days, any new player absolutely has to have a gimmick. There are just too many brands on the market. So, a company really does need to go the extra mile to stand out. That’s probably why “DMZ 2km” is getting some media love.

DMZ 2km is drawn from a plant in the southern half of the Korean peninsula’s Demilitarized Zone, the 4 km border area that has split North Korea from South Korea for more than 50 years. On land, there is razor wire – and plenty of landmines. Soldiers walk patrols, and there’s sometimes gunfire. Underneath all this is a spring that ultimately feeds the plastic bottles that consumers can buy for 600 won (50 cents) a pop.

The water bottle is adorned with a bird, which is representative of the wildlife that now lives in the DMZ, which hasn’t had much human activity in half a century. More than 2,900 different plant species are estimated to live there, along with 70 mammals and 320 bird types.

Lee Sang-hyo, spokesman for Lotte Chilsung Beverage, tells Reuters, “We decided on water from the DMZ because it’s different, and the environment there is untouched, so many people thinks it’s clean.” Fortunately, he continues, “Getting the water is not dangerous at all. We worked it all out with the military.”

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[Photo by Constantin B. via Flickr]

Photo of the Day (12-30-09)

by Jamie Rhein on

With the end of 2009 approaching, this photo by tammystaats seems perfect. Are we walking towards or away from something or someone? Isn’t the traveler’s answer that we are doing both?

I love the footprints of these four people. Even though they started out further away from each other, they look as if they are merging the more that this group walks into the distance. The blue sky, white clouds and the crests of these dunes offer the suggestion of infinite possibilty. Bravo!

If you have a shot that captures the infinite possibility of the traveler, send it our way at Gadling’s Flickr photo pool. It might be chosen as a Photo of the Day.

*This photo was tagged Colorado, so I am assuming these are at the Great Sand Dunes National Park.

Rafting the Smith River in Montana: Now is the time to plan

by Jamie Rhein on

Rafting the Smith River in Montana requires planning ahead and a permit. Without the permit, you’re not going. Obtaining one is simiilar to acquring a permit for a private rafting trip through the Grand Canyon. A lottery system says who goes and when a trip can happen. Not everyone wins.

The application process for 2010 begins in January permits closes the end of February for trips starting mid- April through the beginning of July. Some trips can go in September or later in July depending upon the river’s water level.

The person who lands a permit can take a group of 14 people on the 59 mile route of that starts at Camp Baker and ends at Eden Bridge. That’s how we ended up on the Smith two summers ago when the river was still high enough to make the four day journey. By the middle of July the water level is too low, particularly closer to the bridge.

Lucky for us, we were the last minute tag-a-longs who happened to be in Montana two days before our friends’ trip and there was room for four more. Score!

The fact that I’m not a back country camping sort of person on most days was something I decided to set aside. The fact that my husband’s hip was causing him major grief was something he decided to ignore. When would such perfect timing happen again? Never.

As a newbie to the back country rafting experience, I learned a few things.

A raft trip on the Smith is a journey through an isolated section of the Little Belt Mountains and some of the best blue ribbon trout fly fishing in Montana. The blue skies, meadows of wildflowers, high cliffs that edge the river in places and the chance to see wildlife face to face is so worth the effort. Plus, there’s the leisurely pace of spending time with family and friends and allowing ones mind to clear from the hassles of life off the river.

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Although this trip does require trust, stamina and perseverance, it is doable for people of all ages. Most of the trip is the float trip version of rafting trhough class I and class II waters. As long as you have an expert rafter with you, someone who knows how to row AND read the river, and another person to help paddle AND to hop out to heave a raft forward or off a rock if need be, you can make it.

Here are tips to keep in mind.

At Camp Baker, your group will meet with a park ranger to map out your exact trip. There are designated campsites along the way. Which group gets which campsite depends on a first come first serve basis. There’s only one group allowed at each one.

To ensure that we would be able to sign up for our first choice of campsites, the two male friends of our group arrived at Camp Baker the night before to put us at the beginning of the line.

The rest of our group was made up of us–a couple with a teenage daughter and a six-year-old son–our friend with her two sons, ages 7 and 9, and two couples without kids.

When planning campsite stops, it’s important to know how far your group will be able to go in a day. Once you take off from Camp Baker, there’s no other place to stop the trip until the take out.

To get your car from the put in to the take out, you can hire a private outfitter with a shuttle service to drive your car from Camp Baker to the parking lot at Eden Bridge. It’s worth the extra money to pay for the paved road version. The gravel road is shorter and less expensive, but you can end up with a cracked windshield. Our car was waiting for us with a nice note from the driver and the keys.

The longest day for us was to be 14 miles which would take most of the day with enough time leftover before dark to pitch tents, make and eat dinner and do the majority of clean up necessary to not have unexpected, unwelcome visitors once we went to bed.

Back country camping that leaves no trace of your presence and taking precautions against bears. This means tying trash bags high up in a tree, putting food in coolers that can be made bear proof with bungee cords and rope each night, and taking everything with you.

Each campsite has a fire ring. We bought some wood with us and used sticks and twigs for kindling. The campsites also have a pit toilet a good distance from the tent sites. The views were splendid. Toilet paper, however, is not to be dumped down the latrine.

Planning for all sorts of weather and having enough supplies is imperative. If you go in the spring or fall, it can snow. We had some rain and mostly warm temperatures during the day, but it was cold at night.

Since we had no idea we were going until the phone call asking if we were interested, we weren’t prepared. To get prepared, we headed to the thrift store in Philipsburg, Montana to buy sweats, sweaters, socks and hats. At the Wal-mart in Missoula, we picked up a sleeping bag and food. At a sporting goods store we bought shoes that could be worn in the river, flashlights and whatever else we couldn’t borrow.

We were able to borrow sleeping pads, three sleeping bags, an air mattress for me, a cooler, a raft and oars. Not too shabby. We had our own pillows.

Well before the trip, the people in the group divided up the food obligations to share the responsibility. Each couple group was in charge of one dinner for everyone. Because we were the last minute tag-a-longs, we were in charge of appetizers and desserts. Each couple group was in charge of their own drinks, breakfast, lunch and snacks.

The biggest hit appetizer was a shrimp, cream cheese and green chili quesadilla. The fly fishermen experts on the trip who caught 40 a day, did treat us to trout, although they threw back most of what they caught.

Bags and bags of ice were a must to keep perishable food and beer cold.

Our biggest issue along the way was keeping the boys from bickering about who would be able to use the small solo float raft and who should ride in which raft. Also, our son did not have a fishing pole. A big mistake. The other two boys did. Upset? You bet.

Our daughter slightly whined because she had to wear a life vest, but not much. She was a trooper and helped haul the rafts off rocks many times.

We didn’t meet up with bear trouble, but we did run into a family who lost much of their food due to a bear getting into it at night. We offered to give them some of our bounty.

At the end of our trip we found out why it is a great idea to have AAA. Our car wouldn’t start. It’s a long tale, but the short version is we fried the wiring with a plug in adapter.

We had to keep getting the car jumped all the way back to Ohio.

For other handy Smith River rafting tips, click here.

[All pictures, courtesy of Jamie Rhein.]

South by Southeast: The Gibbon Experience

by Jeremy Kressmann on

As a kid, did you ever fantasize about living in a tree house? Of climbing into your own hideaway stocked with chocolate bars, hanging out with monkeys and doing as you please? If you’ve ever wanted to feel like a kid again, it’s time to visit The Gibbon Experience, a magical realm of tree houses, waterfalls and exotic wildlife hidden deep in the dense jungle of Northern Laos.

The Gibbon Experience is one of the world’s most unique adventure travel concepts. Visitors have the chance to eat and sleep in their own personal tree house, suspended hundreds of feet above the forest floor, immersed in a symphony of cackling birds, humming cicadas and shrieking monkeys. Best of all, guests get around on a series of sturdy steel “zip line” cables, connecting the tree houses to forest paths. It’s the equivalent of waking up in the morning, strapping on a body harness and throwing yourself out a 10-story window. The experience is at once terrifying and exhilarating – a realization of long-dormant childhood dreams.

Not only is The Gibbon Experience great fun, it’s also tourism that’s good for your conscience. The project is pioneering a totally unique model of conservation, sustainable tourism and grass roots local support. If you’ve ever wanted to live out childhood tree house fantasies and help support a great cause, keep reading below for more…
What Is It?
Southeast Asian travelers talk about The Gibbon Experience with the sort of hushed tones reserved for religious visions. But travelers that have braved the long journey to the Laos border town of Huay Xai come back raving about what they’ve seen. For 180 Euros (around $270 USD), guests are treated to a three-day, two-night stay within the confines of one the world’s last great untouched nature preserves, home to tigers, Asian Black Bears and Gibbons, a small species of ape that gives the project its name.

During your stay, you’ll get to take it all in from a bird’s eye view, nested high in the tree tops of one of project’s seven tree houses. All guests have 24-hour access to local guides, unlimited access to the park’s zip lines, three meals per day and basic-but-comfortable tree house sleeping arrangements. Those looking to experience the Preserve’s ample wildlife and scenery can opt for additional guided treks through the jungle.

Welcome to the Jungle
My own Gibbon “experience” began with a brisk hike through the woods, moist green sunlight pouring down through the forest’s dense undergrowth. Thick jungle trees towered above like sacred monuments, trunks knotted with snaking vines reaching for the heavens. In the distance was the faint squawking of mysterious creatures, howling with glee. Soon a tree trunk wrapped with a steel cable popped into view, hiding behind a clump of palm leaves: it was our first zip line.

My pulse raced as I stepped onto the zip line’s rickety wooden platform for my first jump. I clipped my roller cable and safety line onto the wire, took a deep breath and jumped off the edge into nothing. I was now a human tennis ball, served in a giant volley between two distant trees. The metal wheels of my roller sang on the wire with a high-pitched shriek as I catapulted forward at great speed, wind howling and the jungle tree tops whizzing below my shoes. It was a feeling of terror and euphoria rolled into one…as if I had fallen off a cliff and discovered I could float like a bird, all within a few seconds. All too quickly my first “zip” was over, feet landing with a thud on a wooden platform hundreds of feet away.

My tour group headed on to our sky-high accommodations, a colossal tree crowned by a real-life fantasy tree house. The “house” was little more than a large wooden platform encircled by railings on all sides, a thatched roof on top, the tree’s branches jutting up through the center. Inside was a simple array of sleeping mats, hammocks, and a small sink and propane stove. After dark the “house” was lit by two puny solar-powered bulbs. Entering or exiting my “house” required attaching oneself to a zip line, stepping off a platform into thin air, feet dangling above the tree tops below.

So did I encounter any Gibbons? Save a few small geckos and moths, I saw scant wildlife during my three-day visit. But despite the lack of Gibbon sightings, there were signs they were around. Each night, the sun plummeted below the horizon, plunging the jungle into pitch-black night. It was during this darkness that the forest sprung to life, erupting with a sounds of strange hoots and whistles and barks. The wildlife was out there…it just didn’t want to be found.

A New Tourism Model
While I was in the jungle swinging around on zip lines, The Gibbon Experience has been busy reinventing the future of tourism in Southeast Asia. Not only did my visit provide funds to help preserve the fragile jungle ecosystem of Northern Laos, the project is also working to include the people of Laos in the park’s success.

All the guides employed by The Gibbon Experience live in the towns and villages surrounding Bokeo Nature Reserve, and a portion of the profit from each visitor is pumped back into these local communities. It’s hoped this model will provide added incentive to keep this wonderful forest intact for future generations. In Southeast Asia, a region oft-threatened by unchecked development, it’s just the type of model that will ensure visitors can enjoy this special place in the years to come.

Gadling writer Jeremy Kressmann is spending the next few months in Southeast Asia. You can read other posts on his adventures “South by Southeast” HERE.