In the midst of the vast ocean, an old layered ship anchored off the shores of Bacan Island, a hidden gem in the Maluku Islands. Alfred Russel Wallace, then a sharped-eyed, tireless explorer, set foot on Bacan’s land in the mid-19thcentury. The island greeted him with winds carrying the scent of spices and the rustle of dense tropical foliage. Beneath its captivating beauty, Bacan held untold natural secrets, challenging the naturalist to delve into its hidden mysteries.
Step by step, Wallace ventured through the lush forest under sunlight dancing through the canopy, casting a mesmerizing play of light and shadow. He bent under the undergrowth, scrutinizing every detail that might escape an ordinary eye. Among decaying leaves and damp earth, he discovered unique land snails whose shells shimmered like hidden jewels.
Each specimen he collected told a story, a piece of the puzzle of life evolving on this remote isle. He not only gathered them but also documented his findings scientifically. In his 1865 publication in the Proceedings of the Zoological Society of London, Wallace described 125 land-snail species from the Malay Archipelago, providing detailed observations on their distribution and characteristics. His work deepened our understanding of biogeography and species evolution, securing Wallace’s lasting legacy on Bacan Island.
Decades later, BRIN (Indonesia’s National Research and Innovation Agency), a modern government research institution, continued that same mission with similar zeal. Armed with curiosity and advanced equipment, BRIN researchers returned to Bacan to search for land-snail species that Wallace had never recorded. Their efforts yielded the discovery of one snail species previously undocumented in Wallace’s journal, a scientific triumph and a tribute to the pioneer who paved the way. Like Wallace, BRIN brought us closer to understanding the vibrant life beating on this island far from the bustle of the modern world.
Journey To Bacan Island
The journey began in BRIN’s office building where Mr. Heryanto, a senior researcher, studied a map of the Wallacea region, the transition zone between Asian and Australasian fauna stretching from Sulawesi to Maluku. Despite his advancing age, his heart burned with undiminished passion. The idea to explore North Maluku in search of new land-snail species did not originate with him alone but was born of the vision of Dr. Ayu Savitri Nurinsiyah, the project’s lead researcher at BRIN’S Biosystematics and Evolution Research Center.
“We must go there, Sir,” Ms. Ayu declared one day with unwavering conviction. “Wallacea still holds untapped secrets. It’s our duty.”
Thus, it began. Together with a small team led by Ms. Ayu, Mr. Heryanto drafted a thorough proposal, planning objectives, routes, and logistics through long nights. After weeks of anxious waiting, they received the good news that their expedition was funded. In 2022, preparations kicked off for North Maluku, with Bacan Island as one of their primary targets. For Mr. Heryanto, this was more than an expedition, it was a calling back to a land once part of his life.
Mr. Heryanto was no stranger to Maluku. From 1984 to 1999, he spent 15 years in Ambon studying mangrove forests and marine mollusks. However, the late-1990s unrest in Ambon forced him to leave Ambon for Bogor, where financial constraints drove him to shift his focus from marine to terrestrial mollusks. Thus, he became a land-snail researcher alongside Ms. Ayu.
Decades later, he returned to North Maluku on a new mission. He contacted Mr. Ibnu, a lecturer at Muhammadiyah University of Ternate whom he had known for years. Mr. Ibnu agreed to join the expedition and completed a team of just three members: Mr. Heryanto himself, Mr. Ibnu, and another BRIN researcher named Mr. Nova. Mr. Ibnu not only provided companionship but also served as a bridge to local experts and North Maluku students, fulfilling BRIN’s mandate to involve local specialists.
The expedition launched from Ternate where they first flew to Moti Island. After a brief survey there, they returned to Ternate and then boarded a small plane bound for Bacan. When the wheels touched down at the modest Oesman Sadik Airport, Mr. Heryanto felt this heart skip a beat as it was his first time setting foot there, a place he had known only from maps.
At the airport, Mr. Ibnu called a local friend to arrange a vehicle to take Mr. Heryanto and Mr. Nova to their hotel and onward to their field sites. In the car, as they gazed at Bacan’s scenery with good admiration. “The forests still look pristine,” said Mr. Heryanto with respect.
With that, the expedition began. They had five target sites: three non-karst areas and two karst formations. Finding the right local guide proved tricky. Mr. Heryanto first interviewed a suspected ojek driver but doubted his field experience. He then visited the local environmental office to request an official escort. Finally, one representative agreed to bring them to their first site.
“At last, we’ve found the right person,” said Mr. Heryanto with a relieved smile.
On the first field day, they explored a banana plantation in Marabose Village. The terrain was flat and easy, but after hours of searching, they found no significant land snails.
“Perhaps we’ve just been unlucky today,” said Mr. Nova, wiping sweat from his brow.
Mr. Heryanto only nodded, but his eyes still full of determination.
However, the second day became a turning point. Early in the morning, they drove toward a forest near Bacan’s highest peak, Mount Batusibela. The route passed a cleared, arid plantation whose scenic beauty left Mr. Heryanto in awe.
“This land is so alive, it’s truly beautiful,” he exclaimed in wonder.
They switched to motorcycles as the path narrowed and then crossed a clear, flowing stream. Finally, they trudged on foot toward limestone hills near Mount Batusibela. The steep climb left them breathless but the unspoiled forest, birdsong, and scent of wet earth repaid every hardship.
There, on a slope near Mount Batusibela, Mr. Heryanto found what he had searching for.
“Here it is!” he shouted, lifting a tiny snail from beneath a leaf.
The specimens he discovered were minuscule, smaller than a pinky fingernail. According to BRIN’s Zookeys journal, some land snails are exceptionally small. For example, Diplommatina radiiformis, one of the world’s smallest, measures just 2.2 to 2.4 mm tall with a shell diameter of 0.95 to 1.3 mm.
“A new species, perhaps?” asked Mr. Nova with his eyes shining.
“We’ll know after the analysis,” replied Mr. Heryanto with his voice full of hope.
The third day took them to a larger field near another limestone hill across the sea, almost at the island’s tip. Each day brought small finds that reinforced their belief that Bacan is a biodiversity treasure. After four days and three nights with new collections and peaceful hearts, the team prepared to return. At Oesman Sadik Airport, Mr. Heryanto gazed at the island one last time from the plane window.
“Thank you, Bacan,” he murmured inwardly.
For him, the journey was not just about snails or science, it was about enduring natural beauty, truths hidden beneath leaves, and the emotion born of shared struggle. He would forever cherish the memories of crossing the cleared plantation, fording the stream, and climbing the hill to the limestone outcrop. Upon returning to Jakarta, he immediately brought his specimens to BRIN for joint research with Ms. Ayu.
Analysis of The New Species
In a small room at BRIN’s Jakarta headquarters, Dr. Ayu Savitri Nurinsiyah sat before her desk piled with documents, glass-jar specimens, and a computer screen displaying data tables as she concentrated on analyzing the new specimens sent by Mr. Heryanto. As principal researcher at the Biosystematics and Evolution Research Center, she masterminded the 2022 Bacan Expedition although she never foot in North Maluku’s forests.
“Maluku is too far, so I rely on Mr. Heryanto,” she said with a slight smile during an online interview via Zoom. “He knows best because he was there.”
The expedition was over and it was time for Ms. Ayu to assemble the puzzle from the collections brought back by Mr. Heryanto, Mr. Ibnu, and Mr. Nova. Dozens of tiny land snails from Bacan’s limestone hills were neatly displayed in her lab, each labeled with its location and discovery date. To laypeople they seemed dull plain white or brown shells but to Ms. Ayu every snail was a chapter in a long evolutionary story.
She never forgot how she first fell in love with snails. In high school at her mother’s banana plantation, a simple incident changed her life. Her cousin got injured and asked Ayu to fetch a snail’s slime to apply to the wound.
“Get a snail, Ayu!” her cousin winced.
Ayu cracked the snail’s shell, applied the fresh slime, and was amazed as the bleeding stopped within minutes. She wondered how that was possible as her eyes focused on the slime sealing the wound like a natural bandage.
Research by Agnes Sri Harti, S. Dwi Sulisetyawati, Atiek Murharyati, Meri Oktariani, and Ika Budi Wijayanti that was published in the International Journal of Pharma Medicine and Biological Sciences (Vol. 5, No. 1, January 2016) shows that snail slime from Lissachatina fulica may hold the key to faster wound healing. Long considered a garden pest, this humble snail secretes mucus that are rich in proteins and glycosaminoglycans. These substances play vital roles in cell regeneration and inflammation control. The research shows that the slime acts as both an antibacterial and anti-inflammatory agent, helping skin wounds heal more effectively. In laboratory tests on mice, wounds treated with snail slime healed faster than those treated with saline, revealing the surprising medical potential of this natural secretion.
That event sowed her curiosity. She learned snails were not just pests or food but belonged to the Mollusca phylum alongside clams, squid, and octopuses. In biosystematics, they fall under Gastropoda family, which are called “belly-foot” animals. Some have shells like snails and others like slugs do not.
“People call snails are pest,” she chuckled. “Yet in Indonesia and Malaysia alone, there are over 1800 land-snail species and the garden snail is just one of thousands of stories.”
For Ms. Ayu, biosystematics is like organizing a vast wardrobe.
“Imagine socks and pants all jumbled together,” she said in the same Zoom interview. “We sort socks into the sock drawer, pants into the pant drawer, then subdivide pants into long or short, just like that with snails.”
During her PhD research in Java, she studied hundreds of specimens and identified 263 species nearly half endemic to Java. Some were even named for local references such as Diplommatina halimunensis from Mount Halimun and Diharacks candrakirana from Sempu Island inspired by the Keong Mas legend, where Princess Candrakirana turned into a golden snail.
“Naming a species is like paying tribute,” she said with her eyes shining. “I prefer local names to keep them close to home.”
However, declaring a new species is not easy. She must scour centuries-old literature even 18th-century texts to ensure it is truly undescribed. Later, she compares morphology and dissects its genitals to confirm reproductive isolation and analyzes DNA.
“Sometimes shells look alike but with different genitals, that means a new species,” she explained.
What began as seven known species in Java grew to 27 in her study, a leap showcasing this tiny life’s richness and secrecy.
When Mr. Heryanto returned from Bacan with his specimen bags, Ms. Ayu sensed something special. The North Maluku Expedition born from a simple idea in 2022 and spurred by Mr. Heryanto’s 2012 claim of a new species on Moti Island had promised more. She said that the data were weak and they needed solid proof. They had planned to cover all of North Maluku but BRIN funding only covered smaller islands such as Moti. Ternate, Tidore, Morotai, and Bacan.
“We had to be realistic,” she sighed. “But Bacan surprised us.”
Among the collection, initial assessments suggested four new species, but after a lengthy peer-review process only one was confirmed.
“The other three turned out to have been discovered before,” she said gratefully. “However, that one new species from Bacan proves North Maluku has its own story.”
The discovery made headlines across Indonesian media, celebrated in an Instagram post announcing the new land-snail species, a milestone for snail research and proof of our nation’s vast biodiversity.
The new snail was named Diancta batubacan. This miniature snail features a sinistral left-coiling shell measuring 4.9 to 5.7 mm in height and 2.8 to 3.3 mm in width with 7.5 whorls. A whorl denotes the spiral lines of the shell and this species has a unique double palatal ridge on the penultimate whorl an unusual trait among micro-land snails.
According to Ms. Ayu, these snails favor limestone hills because the calcium aids shell formation.
“They feed on leaves and vegetation there, helping to clean the environment,” she said. “Snails, especially common snails, can serve as ecological indicators. If many snails are found in a forest, it may signal human disturbances affecting the ecosystem.”
For Ms. Ayu, land snails are more than research subjects, they are her life’s path and fortune. From that childhood banana plantation incident to securing an internship offer at the London Natural History Museum with her snail research proposal where her journey has been extraordinary.
On her desk, a tiny snail from Bacan Island sits motionless in a glass jar. It does not move but to Ms. Ayu it speaks of journeys, nature, and enduring hope.
