Ferry to Larantuka, Flores

A long long day hiding from the sun and a long cold night wrapped in sheets on the deck. We head on for the big island, Flores, passing up the chance to go whaling in a wooden boat with spears. The boat is a river ferry, not designed for the sea. It hugs the coast. All day we chug slowly passed green volcanoes. Each island has its own monster, some smoking. Smaller volcanic tips poke above the blue. We think we see a whale; we definitely see flying fish. We spend the night rammed against a dock somewhere for reasons unknown.