Moyo's interior defies the lush tropical stereotype. Much of the island's center is savannah -- dry grassland broken by strands of forest, more reminiscent of eastern Indonesia's dryer climate zones than the dense jungles of Borneo or Sumatra. The terrain rises to 648 meters at its highest point, and the transition from coast to summit compresses several ecosystems into a short distance. Along the shore, coral reefs ring the island in water warm enough to snorkel year-round. Inland, the forest thickens around waterfalls that cascade over mossy rock into pools surrounded by clouds of butterflies. The largest waterfall requires a two-hour hike from Labuhan Aji village; others lie within fifteen minutes' walk. Mata Jitu, the waterfall Diana visited, sits about four kilometers from Labuhan Aji, its turquoise pools stacked in tiers against dark volcanic rock.

In 1986, Indonesia declared Moyo a conservation area, establishing the Moyo Island Hunting Park across 22,250 hectares of the interior and a 6,000-hectare Marine Nature Tourism Park along the coast. The island shelters a remarkable density of wildlife for its size. Long-tailed macaques forage in the canopy. Timor deer and barking deer move through the grasslands. Wild pigs and wild cattle roam the forest edges. Twenty-one bat species have been documented, including flying foxes whose wingspans can exceed a meter. Birdwatchers have catalogued 86 species, two of them endangered: the yellow-headed parrot and the Tanimbar megapode, a ground-nesting bird endemic to Indonesia that incubates its eggs not with body heat but by burying them in mounds of decomposing vegetation, letting the chemical heat of decay do the work. In 2018, the Indonesian government proposed combining Moyo with nearby Satonda Island to create Moyo Satonda National Park, and the entire coastline has since been designated a marine conservation area, protecting the reefs from fishing and pollution.

Moyo is home to roughly 4,200 people living in two administrative villages -- Labuhan Aji in the south and Sebotok in the north -- distributed across six smaller settlements. Life here follows rhythms that predate tourism by centuries. Most residents fish and farm, and the two occupations overlap freely: a farmer plants cashew trees and sesame in the dry season, then takes a boat out when the catch is running. Cashew is the dominant crop, joined by coconut, mango, corn, upland rice, and lebui beans. A few residents run small businesses catering to the trickle of visitors. Traditional boatbuilding continues at Labuhan Aji, where craftsmen shape wooden hulls using methods that would be recognizable to their grandparents. Government employment is rare. The island's economy is largely self-contained, a closed loop of agriculture, fishing, and trade with Sumbawa Besar across the strait.

Tourism marketers have labeled Moyo "undiscovered" for so long that the word itself has become a kind of brand. Yet the description remains stubbornly accurate. There is no ferry schedule, no regular air service, no chain hotel. Getting here means arranging a boat from Sumbawa Besar, a process that involves negotiation, weather, and a tolerance for uncertainty. Amanwana, the Aman Resorts property that made the island briefly famous when Diana checked in, remains the only accommodation that most international travelers would recognize, and its prices keep the visitor numbers low by design. Beyond the resort, a handful of simpler lodgings serve the adventurous few who come for the diving, the waterfalls, and the wildlife. The Indonesian government's conservation designations -- the hunting park, the marine reserve, the proposed national park -- suggest an official intent to keep development controlled. Whether that intent holds against the pressures of a growing Indonesian tourism industry is the question Moyo's next chapter will answer.