Silver Seahorse or Dragon Container

Bali, 2005

Bali is all about water. Ponds smothered in lotus flowers and gardenias; streams pitching from the ambrosial urns of stone goddesses; waterfalls along stone walls covered with butterflies and fronds.

I was used to being wet. I’d arrived in Bali after spending a week on the Indonesian island of Bunaken. The assignment came from Seacology, a nonprofit dedicated to protecting island ecosystems. They’d hired me to write about three of their community-based projects in Indonesia. These included a heroic effort to restore the island’s coral reefs, many of which had been destroyed by cyanide or dynamite fishing.

The bath-warm waters surrounding Bunaken conceal some of the most beautiful dive sites in the world. Three marine systems converge in that region, supporting a dense web of marine life full of biological surprises. Shortly before my visit, in fact, a new species of seahorse had been discovered by a local dive master named Henche Pontoh; the creature, Hippocampus pontohi, now bears his name.

That’s probably why this odd metal seahorse, which I found in a Balinese antique shop, caught my eye. At least I think it’s a seahorse. Or maybe a dragon? And why are humanoid figures riding on its back, clinging to its mane and tail? It’s either a scene from a local myth, some kind of tribal object, or a flight of pure imagination. (It’s also an unlikely container, splitting apart at the middle.)

Is it old, or new? It’s often hard to tell about things you find in Bali. One afternoon in Ubud, strolling through the Monkey Forest, I wandered down a flight of steps to the river. To my left, on a rocky outcrop overlooking the raging, muddy torrent, sat two gigantic carved stone lizards. Weathered and covered with moss, they stared down at the rushing water. I was enchanted by these reptiles, convinced they were ancient ruins—until I saw the sculptor’s signature, dated 1997.

My intentions for this seahorse are unclear. In 2005 it was meant as a gift, but for whom? Clearly, I never succeeded in giving it away. It embodies a kind of fecund island mystery. I suspect it may still have some stories to tell me. So this is a hard object to let go of. But aren’t they all?