The ferry from Bali slipped from the dock just after noon, under a bright tropical sun. The engine's low thumping barely penetrated the din of the passengers. With my back against a steel support, I opened my journal and enjoyed watching my Parker fountain pen lay out a thin blue line across the page as effortlessly as the wake the ferry drew across the Lombok Strait. At water's edge we transferred to a little wooden outrigger canoe with a 150cc motor jutting off its side. Our driver pulled the ripcord on his little Evinrude and nosed the boat out to sea. I was on my way to an islet too small to appear on the map: perfect.