Monitoring the lizards
Komodo lizards may well have been the source for the myth of Chinese dragons. Ancient seafarers heard stories of these weird monsters even if seldom encountered.
The first description was published following a 1910 Dutch expedition to the area which shot and skinned two beasts.
Komodo dragons (known locally as ora) are monitor lizards and the largest left on earth. This family has members weighing just 20 grams that you'd welcome in your garden, up to the Nusa Tenggara monsters. You'd never want to encounter these among the flower pots; they can check in up to 150 kilograms.
The carnivorous reptiles are sun worshipers; if they get too cold the meat in their gut starts to rot and that could be fatal. So all that lounging has purpose. No wonder they can live for up to 50 years.
In the past rangers would shoot a goat and bait the big beasts so tourists would get a guaranteed sighting. This policy has now been dropped because lazy lizards were becoming dependent on humans for their food.
Dragon-spotters now have to peer in the branches or creep close to their burrows. The stench of rotting flesh is usually a good guide to a dragon's lair and a splendid reason to carry a telephoto lens.
A nimble ranger with a stout stick to deter any grumpy old man dragon is essential. It also helps if you can sprint faster than 10 km an hour.
On Komodo island reptile-viewing has become so organized that some Westerners prefer the more natural situation on Rinca.
There are a few dragons left on the west coast of Flores. Aeons ago, when the sea was much lower and they could swim short distances between islands the dragons had a much larger range; they may even have lived in Australia.
There are probably about 2,000 animals left in the wild. Numbers seem to be decreasing. Apart from pressures on their environment the creatures suffer an acute gender imbalance. For every female there are three males which must create a lot of domestic dragon dramas.
The females lay one clutch of about 18 eggs every year, then hang around for a while waiting for the hatchings nine months later. After that the little ones are on their own in the big cruel world.
Slow or trusting dragonettes are unlikely to be snapped by tourists. They'll be snapped up by dad, uncle, elder brother, feral dogs or wild boars and never get a chance to feature in anyone's photo album.
In the cauldron of Komodo, animal kin ties count for nought and conservation is a luxury for the well-fed. The national park may be an international treasure but these hazard isles are no place for the sluggish creature or squeamish human.
Nonetheless, go soon: This place is special.
-- Duncan Graham