Jungle Fall in East Timor: Saved by Goats

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0:33It's dusk on June the 14th, 2019, in Southeast Asia. On the island of Atauro, a tiny sun-soaked oasis off the coast of East Timor, the dark silhouette of a mountain looms imperiously over the forests, fields, and foothills. This is Mount Manukoko, and according to local folklore, this thousand-meter peak is more than just a mountain. It's a sacred place, where the boundary between the physical world and the spiritual world is porous and fragile. By day, there is a clear dividing line between these two realms. But at night, the line dissolves, and, so the legend goes, the mountain becomes the domain of spirits.

1:24Some islanders believe that you must not set foot here after dark, or risk antagonizing the supernatural forces set to dwell there. Those who ignore the warning do so at their own peril. On this particular summer's night, partway up one of Manukoko's densely wooded slopes, something moves through the darkening jungle. A hunched, howling figure stumbling blindly over the ground. It's a strange, frightening creature. Like a man, but stripped of all obvious humanity. Its naked body is smeared with blood and filth, and it groans as it moves. Its head is split open, and a piece of scalp peels back with every step, exposing the bone beneath.

2:18The creature stops for a moment and when it looks up and the moonlight catches its pale, sunken face the eyes peering out aren't that of a fantastical monster or beast. They are the eyes of 42-year-old Morgan Segwe a man in desperate need of help. I really thought if I die here, no one will find me. So I was saying, okay, I have to go back. At least on the road, I have to die somewhere that people will find me.

3:01Ever wondered what you would do when disaster strikes? If your life depended on your next decision, could you make the right choice? Welcome to Real Survival Stories. These are the astonishing tales of ordinary people thrown into extraordinary situations. People suddenly forced to fight for their lives. In this episode, we meet Morgan Segwe. In 2019, the former acrobat from northern France is living in the Southeast Asian country of East Timor. One sunny Sunday, Morgan, a keen hiker and climber, decides to trek to the top of Mount Manukoko, a 3 ,000-foot peak on a nearby island just off the mainland.

3:45After reaching the summit, however, his thrill-seeking backfires, when he finds himself caught in the baking late afternoon heat with an empty water bottle and a long way back down. Soon, he finds himself hopelessly, confoundingly lost. So I took this path, the same path, to go back and after five minutes, suddenly like, the path disappeared. But that's just the start. Navigating his way back through a dark and otherworldly jungle, things deteriorate rapidly, culminating in a brutal accident. The trees and the rocks started to fall with me and suddenly, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom.

4:30So I thought, okay, I don't have water. I lose my blood. Maybe in one or two days it's finished for me. I decided, okay, I will die. It's finished. Grotesquely hurt, with no clear way to reach help, Morgan will accept his fate. until an unexpected arrival appears through the trees, offering a tiny flash of hope. I'm John Hopkins. From the Noiser Podcast Network, this is Real Survival Stories.

5:18It's late morning on Sunday, June the 9th, 2019, a few miles north of East Timor in Southeast Asia. An outboard motorboat chugs through sapphire-colored water. Sitting with one hand on the tiller, his thick brown hair tousled by the breeze, is 42-year-old Morgan Segway. Morgan's eyes are fixed on the horizon, where the hazy green outline of a mountain appears to rise from the twinkling sea. The island of Ataru lies roughly 20 miles north of Dili, the capital of East Timor, where Morgan lives. Originally from a small village outside Paris, the Frenchman has been based in this part of the world for two years.

6:06He loves it here, and as his boat skips over the crystal-clear waves, it's easy to understand why. This place is breathtakingly beautiful. It bursts with color. The blue sky, the white sand beaches, the dazzling green palm trees. Everything seems alive. In local Timorese culture, there is a concept known as Lulik, a sacred spiritual power associated with certain places and objects. Lulik is a kind of assembly of rules and spirits from this area, East Timor. It's like animism. So stones, birds, trees have their own soul and they can help you or in the inverse totally make you jokes and make you struggle in your days.

7:04Morgan steers the boat into a sheltered cove. In the distance, beyond the trees at the top of the beach, the jagged, jungle-clad spine of a mountain ridge rises above the palms. Manukoko is a thousand meters tall. Its summit looms over the island, providing a constant backdrop to life here. It's also where Morgan is headed for today's hike. As he jumps out of the boat into the knee-high water, a group of islanders come down to the beach to help him drag his boat onto the sand. When I arrive on the beach, people come to welcome me and help me to move the boat on the beach and ask, where do you go, Malai?

7:49Malai is the stranger, the white man. Where do you go, Malai? I say, oh, I will go to the top of Manukoko. Ah, nice, nice. When? and now, oh no, it's too late. You have to start at five or six a.m. It will be too hot and it's too long. And you know, of course, there is spirit. So at night, it's not a place for you. It's a place for no one. He reassures the islanders that he'll be careful. Then he sets off up the beach, following a sandy track inland through the trees.

8:27Though he has made the tropical island nation his home, East Timor is a far cry from the surroundings of Morgan's youth. Born and raised in northern France, his childhood was set against a picturesque backdrop of wooded hills and apple orchards. Always climbing trees and riding my bicycle, going by myself at school. It was a very, very small French village with 100 inhabitants, with one teacher for all the kids from six to ten years old. So it was really, really nice and close to nature when I was young. Morgan was a restless, outdoorsy kid. More at home running around in fields than sitting in classrooms.

9:16When he got older, he found the perfect outlet for his boundless energy, enrolling at circus school and training as a professional acrobat. At the age of 21, Morgan's circus career took him to the biggest stage on earth, the opening ceremony for the 1998 FIFA World Cup in Paris. I was on the opening show and I was dressed like a rooster. They were decided to get 32 chickens representing the 32 countries participating to the World Cup and I was the English one. So you can watch on internet English rooster and to the roof of the Stade de France in 98. I'm inside. Shortly after this remarkable episode, Morgan decided to leave the circus and return to college to study event design.

10:12After graduating, he began traveling widely, organizing cultural events for embassies and museums around the world. By the mid-2010s, he had switched lanes again. He was living in Kazakhstan, working as a documentary filmmaker, when a friend came to him with another exciting opportunity. Would Morgan like to come out to East Timor, where this friend lived, and produce promotional documentaries for NGOs? At that time, Timor was a very, very young country because they got their independence in 2001. So the country still ran with the help of many, many, many NGOs, American, Australian, European, Korean, Japanese NGOs from anywhere.

11:00So I took a ticket from Kazakhstan to Timor, said, OK, let's see what can happen. Not for the first time in his life, Morgan was throwing himself headfirst into uncharted waters. But when he arrived in East Timor and moved into a small house on the beach, something immediately clicked into place. So when I arrived to Dili, Dili is the capital of East Timor, I chose a house in the front of the sea. And when you see that with coconut tree, white sand, broken boat in the garage, you feel like, oh, I'm right. It's my place. It's my place. Since arriving in East Timor two years ago, Morgan has grown increasingly fond of this country, its people and customs.

11:52But no matter how acclimatized he becomes, some things remain mysterious and foreign to him. And he is about to find out that despite the outward beauty of these islands, they can still throw up some nasty surprises.

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14:37It's early afternoon on June the 9th. Morgan is walking through the jungle that covers the lower slopes of Mount Manukoka. It's the height of the dry season, when this part of the world can go for many months without rain, and the midday heat is sweltering. Still, Morgan is in high spirits. The sky is a beautiful cobalt blue and birds of paradise sing from the branches of the trees that line the footpath. Occasionally, he passes locals on the trail. They all look at him with the same quizzical expression. Some stop him to ask where he's headed. When he tells them, their curiosity turns immediately to concern.

15:21On the path to the summit, many people stop me. Where do you go? I go on the top. It's too late. Wait for tomorrow. It's almost 1 p.m. By the time he reaches the top of the mountain, it'll be late afternoon, dangerously close to nightfall. No local would ever risk wandering the slopes of Manukoko after dark. But Morgan ignores the advice of the passerby. He appreciates their concern, but he is an experienced adventurer, a seasoned hiker and climber. He'll make it down in good time. The locals merely shake their heads and shuffle off, muttering in disapproval. Of course after 500 years of colonization from Portuguese and Indonesian, they really are used to the Malay, the white man who never listened, think that he knew everything and know better than anyone.

16:21The trail winds uphill through a patchwork of cultivated fields and pockets of dense jungle. He passes plots where maize and root vegetables are grown on the outskirts of villages. Fruit trees overhang the footpath, the warm air fragrant with their sweet, sticky scent. As he gains elevation, however, the landscape becomes more rugged. Up ahead he can see where the tree line ends and the narrow ridge follows its final snaking ascent to the summit. After another mile or so he sees two women coming down the trail. One is very elderly and appears to be blind in one eye. Her companion is younger and she is the one who speaks to Morgan, her tone urgent.

17:07The young lady said, okay sorry to disturb you during your journey, during your trek but i have the duty to explain you what's there you see the line there the trees at the end of my field here it's safe it's a normal world we are farmers there is fruits vegetables water but just a little bit upper this line it's another world in the sacred world of lulik and you should not go alone. You should not go. But if you go, please don't sleep there and come back as soon as possible. Morgan glances up beyond the treeline where the summit ridge looms menacingly, blotting out the sky. Perhaps he should heed the warning.

18:04He could just park the whole thing or come back next weekend and make an earlier start. But ultimately, Morgan can't bring himself to back out. Doing so would be against everything he believes, or at least everything he has been told to believe, about his own limitations or lack thereof. I was in a time of my life, a period of my life, where I was listening to too much podcasts. You know, it's self-improvement, self-development podcast where never lose your dreams and never stop. Break the barrier and go and go, go, go, go. And you fail and you wake up and you fail and you wake up. And this is really not working with the mountain.

18:54Never do this. First rules in the mountain is if you feel it's not going well, you just have to make a U-turn and you can always do it another day. This is the rule number one. and all these podcasts and books and all that maybe push me a little bit to not listening. Perhaps Morgan has simply been listening to the wrong podcasts. In any case, he chooses not to take the young woman's advice. He's already come this far, three quarters of the way, and he isn't the type to turn back. And so he wishes the two women a good day and continues on his journey.

19:46It's a couple of hours later. Morgan is walking the final approach to the mountaintop, a steep scramble over rock and scrubby vegetation. The former acrobat covers it swiftly, his lean, nimble body moving effortlessly over the rough terrain. When he finally reaches the summit, he straightens up and stands, looking out across the glorious panorama unfurled below him. It's a spectacular view that takes in the whole island, a sweeping expanse of jungle-clad hills stretching all the way to the ocean, where deep blue takes over from emerald green. Panting from the heat and exertion, Morgan reaches into his backpack for his water bottle.

20:31But when he pulls it out, he makes a troubling discovery. There are only a few drops left. This was the first really big sign of, uh-oh, I should be very, very careful from now because I'm only half of the journey and I don't have water now with me. We were really in the middle of the dry season, so not a single drop of water anywhere. At least the rest of the journey is downhill. Plus it's almost five. The worst of the afternoon heat is surely over. It'll be cooling down from now on. But as he sets off back down the trail, the opposite seems to be true. The sun smolders overhead, a blazing red fireball.

21:27Morgan can feel it scorching the back of his neck, sucking the last traces of moisture from his rapidly overheating body. He quickens his pace, anxious to reach the shade of the tree line. The air around him thickens and shimmers, the slope of the ridge rippling in the heat. He lowers his gaze and tries to concentrate on where he's putting his feet. So I took this path, the same path, to go back. And after five minutes, suddenly, like, the path disappeared. It's here, and it's not here. I cannot explain more than that. Morgan looks back the way he came. But there's no sign of the footpath. Just a steep, sun-yellowed stretch of dry brush.

22:20Here and there, shards of volcanic rock protrude from the earth like jagged black arrowheads. It is as if the trail just vanished from right under his feet. Morgan tries to stay calm. He's only a few hundred yards from the treeline. Instead of climbing back up, he heads down into the forest, where at least there's some shade. Hopefully he'll pick up the footpath somewhere in the jungle But the trail never reappears What he does find is a dry creek bed weaving through the trees Morgan figures that if he follows it far enough It'll eventually lead him to a village He sets off The stream meanders through tracts of dense undergrowth and he must force his way through barricades of thorny vegetation.

23:18It's not a simple route downhill either. It undulates up and down through the forest. Occasionally he encounters dry waterfalls, and he has no choice but to scale them, tackling vertical rock faces. Gradually, the light starts to fade. Looking up, he sees that the flashes of sky through the canopy are streaked with dusky purple clouds. More I was exploring, more I was lost. And suddenly it's night. It's night, you don't have water, you are lost in the jungle mountain and you have to take a decision.

24:02Should he stop for the night and wait until morning? Or carry on in the dark and hope he reaches civilization? The local woman he had met earlier had warned him not to sleep up here on the mountain. Morgan isn't superstitious about malevolent spirits, but he keeps walking all the same. The night deepens. After another couple of hours, he reaches the tallest obstacle yet, a towering 130-foot cliff face. He begins to climb, carefully seeking out handholds in the rock. He makes it most of the way up when he stops. The rock up here is smooth and featureless, making it almost impossible to climb. He's only got about 30 feet, less than 10 meters to go, but he's stuck.

25:01No place to put your fingers. It was like marble. and there was only a tree and you know when you climb you should not use vegetation trees branch anything stick on the rock it's really a bad idea but it was the only way to try to get up morgan reaches for the tree branch he gives it a firm tug testing its strength Once he's satisfied it'll support his weight, he grabs hold of it and pulls himself up. So I put all my weight on it. And when my weight was on it, suddenly, it was not a crack from the wood. It was like a... From the rock itself. All the rock, a big rock, totally detached. And the time stopped.

25:57I really saw it like slow motion. You know, like in a movie. There is a horrible, wrenching sound. Morgan feels himself topple backwards, away from the cliff face. Everything seems to move slowly, the disaster unfolding in half speed. But there's still no time to react. Nothing he can do to stop it, nothing he can do to prevent the inevitable. So I tried to use my fingers like hook and in the rock, but of course they all broke. So I feel like all my fingers broke. And I saw the trees and the rock starting to fall with me. And suddenly the time took its normal speed.

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28:53It's June the 9th, 2019, the middle of the night somewhere on the forested slope of Mount Manukoko. At the base of a 40-meter cliff, Morgan lies on his back, motionless. Blood oozes from a gash running the length of his skull. The right side of his face is puffy and mottled with dark bruises. His right eye is swollen shut, the bone around it shattered. The only sign that he is still alive is the faint flutter of his pulse. And then, his left eyelid twitches. Slowly, he returns to consciousness. I open my eyes, left eye. the right one was totally disconnected. Only my left hand was working, and I was trying to understand what is broken, what's happened.

29:56Morgan blinks up at the dark forest canopy. After he fell and his body smashed repeatedly against the wall of the cliff, he blacked out. But it's hard to say how long for. Hesitantly, he moves his left hand to his head. There is something soft and damp protruding from his scalp. It takes him a moment to realize that it's a part of his scalp, prized away from his skull.

30:29All my upper head was capped, and it was very strange to feel it. no pain but i felt my hair the strange liquids from the body and i felt my skull totally naked he tries to push himself upright but his right arm must be broken he can't put any pressure on it without triggering waves of immense pain propping himself up on his left elbow he manages to lift his torso off the ground he tries to straighten his right leg but his nerve endings fizzle in agonizing protest. Clearly, walking is out of the question. Morgan lies back for a moment, breathing, trying to take stock. He must have hit his head hard during the fall, so the fact that he's still alive is a miracle.