By: Bima Prasena (@worldlifetravel)

The sharp machete was raised up, higher than the head. The large muscular hand at the end of the machete was ready to cut down what was in front of it, there was no time to shudder in horror, no time for us to defend ourselves, other than surrender.

As usual, we left early in the morning to head to a dive point near Ur Pulau, Southeast Maluku. Incidentally, the seagrass observation team, M. Nur Kholis, known as bang Nuy, and mbak Tiela, joined our boat and were dropped off on the west side of the island. "Mas Bim, are you coming?" I asked, pressing the shutter button on my camera.

"Wait!" I shouted as I walked quickly through the water to the boat that was moving slowly backwards. We waved to the two people of the Seagrass team who were slowly getting smaller as the boat moved away from the shore. There were no nagging feelings, because today was like the previous expedition days filled with a series of solid activities of coral reef and seagrass observation.

An hour and a half has passed since we completed the first dive for the day, while waiting for the Surface Interval (the mandatory time gap between dives) we pick up the Seagrass team to the point we left them. The closer we get, the more deserted the shoreline becomes, although there are a few of the same unoccupied huts as when we dropped off the seagrass team. We waited.

"Nuy!!! Tiela!!!" the five of us shouted, breaking the silence of the bright blue beach. We tried to comb the beach with the boat to the south, while looking for signs of life there, but there was none. "Wow, don't let them sleep," said Bang Farhan who was preparing to go down with Om Udin who was the motorist of our boat. This is unusual I thought, usually the seagrass team is the fastest team to collect data, because they move only on the beach, although they have to snorkel but without using equipment and diving methods that take a lot of time, usually they are waiting for the dive team to pick up.

Only Transects Remaining

"Where have they gone?" said Bang Farhan in his thick Acehnese accent, climbing into the boat. "There are transects that are still in place," said Itsar. "Hopefully it won't be an emergency," I thought. Me, Bang Farhan, Itsar, Ihsan and Ocha just obeyed when om Udin suggested we head to Ur Pulau village to look for bang Nuy and mbak Tiela, after half an hour more we looked for them.

There were three possibilities that we thought about in that situation, about why we didn't find Lamun's team:

1. They moved coasts, because the seagrass on this west coast is not representative.

2. They go to the village to ask about seagrass points or take permission to collect seagrass data. 2.

3. This is what we least expect, the occurrence of conditions that require us to carry out rescues.

There were only 3 children on the long dock, Itsar and Ihsan were trying to tie our boat to the nearest pole, everything was so calm until a scream broke the beauty of this island. The shouts were continuous, fierce faces full of anger rushed onto the not wide pier, probably almost all the villagers were in the same place, on the pier which had now become a long path full of machete pointing.

We were confused, as well as horrified by the situation that was rapidly turning into a Dead-or-Run condition. I quickly stored my camera in the big box where we kept our electronics, Bang Farhan, Itsar, Ihsan and Ocha were already at the pier and surrounded and herded towards the village, me and om Udin were the only ones left.

"Hurry up! Hurry up!" they shouted. While climbing the pier pole, I prepared to accept whatever came, with resignation. But the more I got into the crowd, the more they shouted, but not at me, it was Om Udin who was their target. At the end of the pier a mother immediately led me to head to the village official's house, I was so worried about om Udin's condition, I talked to the mother to save om Udin, "let's go there first" she exclaimed.< br />

I looked back, the scene in between the screaming masses made me horrified, Om Udin was being attacked by two young men on a boat, one of whom was holding a machete, it was over.

The Impact of the 'Hoax' Issue Spreading in Ur Island

The two women beside me were talking about "cutting off heads", about "gouging out eyes and cutting out tongues", at that time more and more of my energy was sucked into thinking about how to survive all of us in this precarious condition. Danger.

The simple house was already crowded with 'spectators' in its courtyard, their shoes already lined up in front of the open entrance. An old man with a wooden cane sat on a plastic chair beside the door, and I excused myself with a slight bow. The tense faces of the dive team could no longer be contained, but at that moment there was also a sense of relief, that we had also met the Bang Nui and Mba Tiela we were looking for.

I watched them, thankfully there were no injuries as far as I could see, but I couldn't ask about their condition at that time, because we had more important things to deal with, namely the anger of the gunmen who entered this house.

We sat in a circle on the plastic chairs they had provided, Ocha and Itsar next to the village elders with wooden sticks, their position in front of the entrance. I saw a machete raised above the heads of Ocha and Itsar, there was nothing in my mind, empty. I could only see while standing, everything was moving slowly, time stopped.

Another hand held back the machete, a few others held the machete attacker out, Ocha was still glued to her seat, we all were.

Dozens of people in the house, suddenly more noisy with a language I don't understand, the back door was trying to break through. We all stood up, someone pointed to the room, "come on, get in..get in!" he ordered. We all went in, I thought this was the end. The door was slightly closed, making the noise in the living room and living room clearly audible, we were terrified. With no windows, the room became the best place for the attackers to kill us all, for us, this sardine can was the last place we would remember.

"Let's drink, eat the biscuits" one of the village elders gave his blessing for us to wake up from this nightmare. A misunderstanding was at the root of it all. The villagers were consumed by a social media story about the threat of child kidnappers who were on the prowl for organs. When the seagrass team was collecting data, they were met by village youths on patrol, and without warning they were immediately herded into the village, even though our team had already provided a letter to the local government to conduct research activities, and even the day before our team members had stayed overnight in this village. The mob was even more emotional when they saw Om Udin, a local man from the waters, and thankfully he was not seriously injured, despite receiving blows from the village youths.

We took a group photo, after repeated apologies from the village elders, and after several hours of having to stay indoors because of the angry mob. But then it all came to a head, the kindness of the locals who offered all kinds of help after we got the issue straightened out, even if it meant involving the team at basecamp and the police via a phone call with poor signal. We were then escorted to our long-awaited boats.

We waved back enthusiastically. Relieved, and still in disbelief, but finally we had to realize that positive activities always invite negative risks. The Kei islanders who are known for their hospitality must look 180 degrees because of negative social media rumors. Too bad.

However hard the waves hit the reef, we still swam wet, but the setting sun was always waiting for us, at the end of a lonely cliff.