Snorkel, island-hop and spot tarsiers in Belitung, one of Indonesia's best-kept island secrets

CNA

3 days ago

The sun has just risen when we wade into the sea with our snorkel gear. Just metres from shore, I'm surprised to find a kaleidoscope of colour blooming beneath calm, translucent water. Vibrant coral clusters – some domed like mushrooms, others ridged like brains – rise from the seabed, teeming with life.
Clownfish dart in and out of anemone homes, while flashes of yellow and green fish shimmer in the sun-dappled shallows. I steer clear of a little valley guarded by bristling black urchins. I marvel: So this is what a healthy, pristine reef looks like.
I've been coaxed into joining this early morning ritual by Daniel Alexander Napitupulu, director of Tanjung Kelayang Reserve. Wherever possible, the 37-year-old begins each day with a dip in the ocean, drawing clarity and calm from it. 'We let nature lend us its energy this morning,' he said.
But beyond the beautiful seascapes, Napitupulu sees something deeper: A blueprint for how hospitality, local communities, and wildlife can thrive together when guided by nature.
THE NEW FACE OF BELITUNG
I'm spending a weekend in Belitung Island, just off the eastern coast of Sumatra – a place dubbed the 'Seychelles" or "Maldives" of Indonesia. While it lacks the towering peaks of Raja Ampat or Komodo, Belitung offers a more laid-back allure – striking granite formations, swaying palms, white sand beaches and serene azure bays.
Belitung Island has a rich history of tin mining, and played a role in ancient maritime trade routes that linked China, the Middle East and Europe. But as tin deposits depleted in the 1990s, Belitung began looking to new futures – turning toward fishing, agriculture, and more recently, sustainable tourism.
Belitung was initially part of Indonesia's '10 New Balis' initiative, a 2016 government effort to spotlight alternative destinations beyond Bali. While it's no longer one of the current super-priority tourism sites, the island remains an up-and-coming destination for sustainable tourism.
My visit centres on Tanjung Kelayang Reserve, a privately owned 350-hectare sanctuary – over half of which is protected – and also part of a Special Economic Zone (SEZ) for tourism. It's just a short hop from Singapore, with a quick layover in Jakarta before a one-hour flight to Belitung. In July, I checked into the Sheraton Belitung Resort, where sandy-hued interiors contrast pleasingly with the surrounding deep green tropical gardens and natural lagoons.
Belitung caters to both the unhurried and the adventurous. The reserve, set within the UNESCO Global Geopark of Belitung, offers forest treks, rock climbing, kayaking, and access to hidden caves and nearby islets.
But the island also invites you to slow down, where life runs on 'santai' time ('relax' in Bahasa Indonesia). You could spend the day lounging, digging into local cuisine or bowls of Indomie from the resort's instant noodle cart, or unwinding at the hotel spa which incorporates local ingredients like black pepper in massage oils and zesty calamansi baths. In town, Waroeng Kopi Ake – Belitung's oldest coffee shop – draws bapak-bapak (older gentlemen) who idle the time away over traditional brews.
INTO THE FOREST: TRAILS, TREES AND TARSIERS
We begin with a morning walk along the Whistle Trail, named after the melodious whistle bird and home to the white-tailed eagle. Our guide, Akbar Alfarisyi, a Belitung-born biologist who joined the reserve in 2022, has spent over a decade documenting the island's rich biodiversity – more than 2,500 species of flora and fauna.
A former biology teacher in Jakarta's universities, the 33-year-old is now focused on educating both visitors and locals, hoping to empower a new generation of nature stewards in Belitung.
As we walk, Alfarisyi points out partially devoured termite nests, also the snack of Sunda pangolins – the world's most trafficked mammal – which have been released back into the wild here. The trail is lined with critically endangered Pelapak trees, once prized for boat-building but now struggling without natural seed dispersers. We leave handwritten notes by our newly planted saplings, joining a list of past visitors that includes Miss Universe 2024 and National Geographic Indonesia.
Later, we ride in a buggy along red gravel roads to visit the reserve's zero-impact water plant. Here, kaolin clay – an abundant local mineral – naturally filters collected rainwater for resort use, avoiding deep-well drilling. We also stop by the stingless Trigona bee farm run by villagers from Komunitas Pelabo Sijuk. Dipping a straw in, we taste honey that reveals surprising flavour variations, from sharp and tangy to syrupy sweet.
Akbar envisions Tanjung Kelayang Reserve as a model for eco-tourism – rooted in research, education, and community-led conservation – offering an alternative to mining and palm oil industries. 'I want people to know the true beauty of this island,' he said. 'Through tourism, we can protect our habitats and pass knowledge to the next generation.'
A must-do: An evening hike up Peramun Hill, a 129m-high granite outcrop blanketed in mossy forest. Managed by the Arsel Community, the hill has long been a source of medicinal plants and edible mushrooms – hence its name is derived from the term herbal concoction.
It's a short, steep climb to the summit, where golden-hour views await alongside a spread of cassava and pisang goreng (fried bananas). As dusk falls, monkeys rustle above and fireflies illuminate our descent, as we dodge the hill's giant ants.
We're here for the Billiton tarsier, elusive nocturnal primates with enormous saucer eyes and spindly limbs, increasingly threatened by habitat loss. Sightings are tightly regulated here to protect them: just three viewings a week, with strict rules to minimise stress – no flash, no loud noises, no more than 10 minutes of observation.
Guided by rangers, we find one clinging to a branch – smaller than I expected, with an oddly Yoda-like air. It stays still for a moment, then vanishes into the darkness.
I also participate in an eco-printing workshop by Sepiak Belitong, a group promoting sustainable crafts through traditional batik and natural dye techniques. We pound wild kirinyuh leaves onto fabric, imprinting them onto bucket hats and totes – a hands-on way to connect with Belitung's culture while supporting the social empowerment initiative.
INTO THE BLUE: SEA ACTIVITIES AT BELITUNG
We set off on a boat for an afternoon at sea. When the sun hits just right, the water glitters like liquid glass. I've visited islands across the Mediterranean, Southeast Asia, and the Pacific, but this ocean feels unusually peaceful, blissfully free of party boats and tourist hordes.
We coast past the Lengkuas Island lighthouse and sculptural granite boulders that jut dramatically from the sea. At one stop, a lone female silvered leaf monkey perches on the rocks, watching us intently.
Napitupulu grew up in Sumatra and later lived in Jakarta and Surabaya, places where he rarely saw beautiful oceans.
Since joining the reserve as director in 2018, he's found his sea legs. Now a passionate freediver, he often calls Belitung 'heaven on earth.' In our short time at the reserve, I see him perpetually barefoot and in his wetsuit. Clutching a chocolate milkshake, Napitupulu stands at the stern of the boat. 'Isn't this the life?' he said with a sigh.
We're on island time now – the tempo slows, fluid and languorous. Some slip into the sea to snorkel, others laze on deck, reading or gazing out. As sunset nears, the sky erupts in scarlet and gold, the boat speeding past the flaming orb as the ocean ripples red.
We head for Tukong Island, where flickering candlelight lines a forest path, casting a mysterious, almost otherworldly atmosphere. We emerge into an open clearing flanked by massive boulders, overlooking the sea. On a long slab of rock, there's an elegant picnic waiting. We settle in to watch the blue hour fade, while Napitupulu slips away for a quiet moment of rock bathing.
A DIFFERENT KIND OF ISLAND DREAM
Belitung's guardians are focused on positioning the island as a getaway resort destination for Singaporeans. With Changi Airport Group exploring the possibility of new direct flights between Singapore and Belitung, there's a sense of cautious optimism.
'We're pushing for direct connectivity to Singapore,' Napitupulu said, over our farewell dinner. 'It's the hub of Southeast Asia – the gateway for global travellers. Belitung is close enough to become its satellite destination. We want Singaporeans, expats, and international visitors to know this place.'
Our visit coincided with a group who flew in from Singapore's Seletar Airport on two private charter planes, including Lawrence Liaw, founder of Aviation Hub. He's eyeing Belitung as the first stop in a network of regional retreats linked by lifestyle aviation – short-range, scenic flights. Their arrival made local news, following the HAS Hanandjoeddin International Airport's re-designation as an international hub in April 2025.
But it's not just about numbers. Belitung is courting slow, intentional travellers who seek out lesser-known places, appreciate nature, and are willing to stay longer. People who fall for Belitung and return – sometimes to contribute or help nurture what's been built. 'What I'm trying to do is build a community that loves the environment, makes a positive impact, and shares Belitung's beauty with others,' he explained.
There's a desire here to write a different development story – one that avoids the mistakes of overcrowded coastal destinations. Napitupulu said they're lucky to have a small showcase proving sustainable coastal development is possible.
Yet, as Belitung charts a course toward low-impact tourism, nearby island sanctuaries tell a cautionary tale. In the Riau Islands, serene eco‑tourism havens like Nikoi and Cempedak – home to nesting hawksbill and green sea turtles, as well as Irrawaddy dolphins and dugongs – local communities now face ecological and social risks from a planned US$6 billion aluminium smelting complex.
On our boat ride back to the resort, the boatman switches off the light, and we fall silent. I sink into the cushions, lie back, and look up. Above us, a sky thick with constellations stretches endlessly, as if we're gliding through a sea of winking stars.
How lucky we are to witness this sliver of magic, and to experience what reconnecting with wild places does to the soul – the privilege of access to 'Santai' time, and the hope that Belitung will protect its natural rhythm – that paradise can hold.