The first time I donned my mask and dipped my face below the cool blue waters in Raja Ampat, I started to cry. This was in May of 2017, my first visit to the region, and I had never in my life seen coral reefs so pristine: colors in every shade, coral in every shape, all life vying for space on the reef like flowers battling beneath a rainforest canopy. My awe brought me to tears. Staying for over a month on a field study project, I was amazed each day by what I found. Not only were the reefs some of the most biodiverse and vibrant in the world, but the communities cared for them in ways I had never seen before: an ancient practice of sasi laut bolstering locally managed marine protected areas while tourism provided alternative incomes to homestay owners. At the time, I believed the pinnacle of conservation and ecotourism success resided in this breath taking archipelago.

Much has changed in the nearly three years since I swam in those waters. In February 2020, I was honored to be invited to speak aboard the Aurora, a Dune Liveaboards dive ship operating in Raja Ampat and Komodo that pays special attention to conservation initiatives throughout the region. By sharing my research findings in Wakatobi and observations during my time in Indonesia previously, the company hoped to instill both understanding and a sense of responsibility in its staff and guests aboard the trip. For a week, we sailed through the islands, from famous sites in the center like Blue Magic and Cape Kri to down south in Misool, where we swam with oceanic mantas and baby sharks thriving in an area that was once a shark finning camp.

Tourism is still largely a success story in Raja Ampat. Without it, many more people would be reliant on depleting the reefs, and there would not be sufficient resources to patrol the waters and protect against illegal fishing. Yet when I visited with my local friends in the region, dive shop and homestay owners alike, everyone expressed a grave concern for what tourism was doing to their paradise. Sites like Blue Magic, a sea mount exposed to strong current that oceanic mantas know as their local cleaning station, have seen a visible decline: broken coral litters the top of the dive site, caused by inexperienced divers crashing into fragile reef, with deep scrape marks down large coral bommies where reef hooks were haphazardly used. Mantas rarely come anymore. According to those working in the region, they have been scared away by the disturbing number of divers allowed on the site every day—each season, they return in fewer numbers.

I am extremely grateful for the opportunity to have discussed these challenges with the directors of Dune Liveaboards and crew of the Aurora, one of the most prominent and well-known boats in the region, as well as the tourists on board. As an outcome of my research, I hope to make a comprehensive set of educational materials for live aboard boats and divers, to ensure that these pristine places remain what they once were. Tourism can bring such positive benefits to a place, but it takes companies like the Aurora to ensure guests adhere to a strict code of conduct and that tourism continues to give back to the community and ecosystems it relies upon. I hope to continue to share my research with companies eager to ensure that the future of sustainable tourism in Indonesia is bright. Thank you to AMINEF and Fulbright for helping to make this opportunity a reality.