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    Port Jaya V2

    Price: $395

    You can’t help but be blown away by oud oil like this. When you hear people talk about how deep the rabbit hole goes, this is the kind of oud they talk about.

    Now, you might expect a sales pitch, so let’s be frank here: this scent isn’t for everyone. Unless you’ve been exposed to pure oud before, or you love going into the wild, I wouldn’t recommend this as a intro-oud. Same if fruit is your thing, or pretty flowers – no need to read further.

    If you browse our Legends, or try to Google ‘Ensar’ and ‘Jayapura’, you’d find very few results. There’s the decade-gone Irian Emerald, and the once-every-three-years Archipelago that had a touch of Jayapura. But this isn’t Jayapura. Neither is it like any Archipelago.

    For so many frag lovers, oud is enough. ‘Enough’ as in you stop caring much about other aromatics because oud as scent universe is so vast, and so powerful, other fragrances often smell dull in comparison. You could easily spend five years in the oud world with no desire to step out even for an evening. And you stay wrapped in wonder because of ouds like this.

    Port Jaya grinds your mind to halt like when a classical music devotee hears free jazz played for the first time. There’s a spark, a twitch, a what’s-going-on-here moment that you don’t know what to make of. There’s a touch of Brunei blue, the herbaceous green of old school Papuan distillations, and the spice-less pine leaf woody heart of Marokes… and then you smell the clash: flower and smoke.

    It’s here where the rabbit hole takes a detour down deeper. This is a rare scent to find. And it’s super layered, which makes it any oud veterans’ dream. It’s not an oud you can figure out. But the joy in trying makes it worth it. There are two reasons for this:

    1. Port Jaya is the only oud of its kind. A co-distillation that includes Jayapura and… Malinau.

    Imagine Irian Emerald + Borneo 3000 infused with pure liquified resin of the first order… you can’t, right?

    2. You have no reference. This is the reference. The contrast of wild flowers bathed in Papuan incense vapor, a dark smokey tenor toned up by Jaya’s green low-key menthol, and the ambient agar aroma of oud chips held up right against your nose.

    Like the classical intro of a slow blown trumpet, the scent might evoke an ‘I’ve been here before’ familiarity (earthy, first rain on dry soil, Papuan-jungly). Then suddenly the screaming sax and off-beat crash symbols let you know this is next-level stuff (wafts of rock amber, the powdery pollen of Malinau, and instead of the berries and honey of Indonesian ouds, you smell summer acacias flickering through deeply resinous incense).

    Oud of this caliber will sell for $750+ elsewhere. Of course, this is not offered elsewhere anywhere, but in terms of the grade of raw materials that were distilled, you’re looking at oud in the $750+ range.

    This is oud with a capital O. The boldness, the powerful incense, the how-is-it-there? floral undertone, and ultimately… the agarwoody drydown that makes oud, oud. Port Jaya blasts it all on full volume. Don't miss it.

    Reviews of Port Jaya:

    I'm always amazed at the accuracy of the oil descriptions on your site. Although I thoroughly enjoy both the Borneo 3000 sample and the Aroké Roshi, it's hard to beat the power and novelty of Port Jaya. I'm an avid hiker, and the scent reminds me of a section of trail by the St. John's River in North Florida, where cedars draped in moss grow out of ancient clam mounds left by the Timucuan. – Connor, USA

    Fabulous oil! Evokes the scent when rain hits a dry jungle earthly soil. Mintly green without the mint hit slowly opens up like the leaves unfolding for the rain. Drying down with a consistent scent like opening up a forgotten wooden chest that kept freshly brewed dark-red Rooibos tea. 

    Each inhalation depending on depth brings out a new "what is that?" As you want to inhale deeper, you are again stopped by something that is completely out of the 'rhythm'. A very subtle calming flower note is there somewhere which is yet to be comprehended. Thankfully there are no fruits and sweetness! 

    Somehow I am also correlating this oil with Vetivers... Strange... Probably the earthiness, green, and grounding?

    This would be the oil which I will not hesitate to make a second or even third order for the price I paid :)  – Jonh, Singapore

    The Port is incredible! I’ll write to you tomorrow. Just wanted to say that I’ve got nose to the wrist every ten seconds. While writing this short note even. Started with a shockingly smooth earth note and now I don’t even know. Beautiful - thank you! – Matt, USA

    Opening : my nose gets a typical Malaysian oil opening green, pepper, mint, mossy feel... 

    But post half an hour the Malinau sweetness begins to make an entry... with that Malay feel still intact and may be a bit more powerful now. 

    Say a couple of hours in with this Oud, it smells to me like Walla Patta 😉 seriously. But a Walla Patta of very high quality Senkoh, Oud Royale quality... [...]

    Power and Longevity of Port Jaya is good. If your a Gyrinops fan you will love this oil and I would recommend it. If your not a gyrinops fan maybe you should at least sample it if possible. – Dan, India

    Port Jaya fits in with the Green Papua, Archipelago, Archinam, and Port Moresby crowd but its got a chip off the Maroke shoulder.

    The concordance it has with the Malinau component makes it an intriguing and compelling wear. 

    As the oil is dropped on the skin, a pea green peppermint top note commences, giving way to a marine aquatic vibe that emerges as you dab, or rub it in. The accord is reminiscent of ambergris complete with the frothing ocean salts that cure the precious substances over the months or years it may take to be discovered, and the algae clung to its crevices.

    On the skin, 45 minutes in, Port Jaya began flying, the projection increased and a new note emerged, a deeply resinous inkiness that emerges from fine Marokés, evoking images of a feather quill in its pot. Hours pass within this phase, the scent remaining consistent on the skin.

    The dark undertones work to support the sweet creamed raspberry honey frothing at the top while the freshness of the ethereal top notes brighten them.

    Four hours in they harmonize into a new fresh accord reminding me of Suriranka Senkoh’s green-apple-honey top notes, albeit a few hues more herbaceous. The ‘minty’ note was fleeting and only noticeable in the beginning.

    Lovers of the Archipelago genre will appreciate the variance and unique notes Port Jaya adds to the scent spectrum. The sliver of the Maroké note adds a nuance of challenge for the uninitiated, though it’s just the outskirts of the jungle and not the dense center like Xiang Liao Ling, or Maroke Asgon so it can be worn casually, and generally enjoyed.

    The duality of it presents a unique opportunity for the Oudept to appreciate a zoomed in case study. – Adam, Jordan

    It IS the reference. This kind
    of revelation (Port Jaya) is dwelling
    in a little parable like this:

    I. The Search for the Bull
    In the pasture of this world, I endlessly push aside the tall grasses in search of the bull.
    Following unnamed rivers, lost upon the interpenetrating paths of distant mountains,
    My strength failing and my vitality exhausted, I cannot find the bull.
    I only hear the locusts chirring through the forest at night.
    Comment: The bull never has been lost. What need is there to search? Only because of separation from my true nature, I fail to find him. In the confusion of the senses I lose even his tracks. Far from home, I see many crossroads, but which way is the right one I know not. Greed and fear, good and bad, entangle me.

    2. Discovering the Footprints
    Along the riverbank under the trees, I discover footprints! 
    Even under the fragrant grass I see his prints. 
    Deep in remote mountains they are found. 
    These traces no more can be hidden than one's nose, looking heavenward. 
    Comment: Understanding the teaching, I see the footprints of the bull. Then I learn that, just as many utensils are made from one metal, so too are myriad entities made of the fabric of self. Unless I discriminate, how will I perceive the true from the untrue? Not yet having entered the gate, nevertheless I have discerned the path.

    3. Perceiving the Bull
    I hear the song of the nightingale. 
    The sun is warm, the wind is mild, willows are green along the shore, 
    Here no bull can hide! 
    What artist can draw that massive head, those majestic horns? 
    Comment: When one hears the voice, one can sense its source. As soon as the six senses merge, the gate is entered. Wherever one enters one sees the head of the bull! This unity is like salt in water, like color in dyestuff. The slightest thing is
    not apart from self.

    4. Catching the Bull
    I seize him with a terrific struggle. 
    His great will and power are inexhaustible. 
    He charges to the high plateau far above the cloud-mists, 
    Or in an impenetrable ravine he stands. 
    Comment: He dwelt in the forest a long time, but I caught him today! Infatuation for scenery interferes with his direction. Longing for sweeter grass, he wanders away. His mind still is stubborn and unbridled. If I wish him to submit, I must raise my whip.

    5. Taming the Bull
    The whip and rope are necessary, 
    Else he might stray off down some dusty road. 
    Being well trained, he becomes naturally gentle. 
    Then, unfettered, he obeys his master. 
    Comment: When one thought arises, another thought follows. When the first thought springs from enlightenment, all subsequent thoughts are true. Through delusion, one makes everything untrue. Delusion is not caused by objectivity; it is the result of subjectivity. Hold the nose-ring tight and do not allow even a doubt.

    6. Riding the Bull Home
    Mounting the bull, slowly I return homeward. 
    The voice of my flute intones through the evening. 
    Measuring with hand-beats the pulsating harmony, I direct the endless rhythm. 
    Whoever hears this melody will join me. 
    Comment: This struggle is over; gain and loss are assimilated. I sing the song of the village woodsman, and play the tunes of the children. Astride the bull, I observe the clouds above. Onward I go, no matter who may wish to call me back. 

    7. The Bull Transcended
    Astride the bull, I reach home. 
    I am serene. The bull too can rest. 
    The dawn has come. In blissful repose, 
    Within my thatched dwelling I have abandoned the whip and rope. 
    Comment: All is one law, not two. We only make the bull a temporary subject. It is as the relation of rabbit and trap, of fish and net. It is as gold and dross, or the moon emerging from a cloud. One path of clear light travels on throughout endless time.

     8. Both Bull and Self Transcended
    Whip, rope, person, and bull -- all merge in No-Thing. 
    This heaven is so vast no message can stain it. 
    How may a snowflake exist in a raging fire? 
    Here are the footprints of the patriarchs. 
    Comment: Mediocrity is gone. Mind is clear of limitation. I seek no state of enlightenment. Neither do I remain where no enlightenment exists. Since I linger in neither condition, eyes cannot see me. If hundreds of birds strew my path with flowers, such praise would be meaningless. 

    9. Reaching the Source
    Too many steps have been taken returning to the root and the source. 
    Better to have been blind and deaf from the beginning! 
    Dwelling in one's true abode, unconcerned with that without -- 
    The river flows tranquilly on and the flowers are red. 
    Comment: From the beginning, truth is clear. Poised in silence, I observe the forms of integration and disintegration. One who is not attached to "form" need not be "reformed." The water is emerald, the mountain is indigo, and I see that which is creating and that which is destroying.

    10. In the World
    Barefooted and naked of breast, I mingle with the people of the world. 
    My clothes are ragged and dust-laden, and I am ever blissful. 
    I use no magic to extend my life; 
    Now, before me, the dead trees become alive. 
    Comment: Inside my gate, a thousand sages do not know me. The beauty of my garden is invisible. Why should one search for the footprints of the patriarchs? I go to the market place with my wine bottle and return home with my staff. I visit the wineshop and the market, and everyone I look upon becomes enlightened.
    I am only not ready to say
    whether I'm in the first, the fourth
    or the tenth stage, or beyond...
    sarvamangalam, – Erhard, Austri

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