Tioman Trip Part One - Reflections

Rows of green hills crowned with majestic lush tropical trees, overlooking blue azure waters and soft white sand; the magnificent blazing sun that would roast skins alive, placated by the cool sea breeze; rocking empty fishing boats; a long cinematic jetty that stretches far where the boats reach; the estranged eel that swims to greet new visitors; colourful bikinis; modest Malay-style chalets that dot the shore; rows and rows of coconut trees; children on bicycles; a few free roving monitor lizards. That wraps up the gist of our visit to the diving village in Salang, Tioman. 

Random tip: apparently the island of Tioman is as big as Penang Island. Thanks goodness it remains undeveloped!

 

The end.

View from the jetty

Monitor lizard chilling out at the cool stream

Heh.

Well, what a trip this was, as my mates put it, ‘unforgettable’. But before I share the unforgettable bit, please let me ramble about my thoughts and feelings of this encounter with the sea in Tioman.

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Seated by the beach in the evening, when the sun was less scorched, when the waves hummed and the trees swayed with the gentle subdued breeze, when the evening reduced activities on the beach to faraway laughter, the beach was calming, relaxing, rejuvenating.

The sea is indeed beautiful, it is simply, a gift bestowed by nature. But despite my intoxicating love for it, when faced with the vastness and grandness of the sea, I was unaware that it instigated a hidden fear.

More than a year ago, naive and eager to sate my craving for experience, I plunged myself 10 feet into the waters for a brief instructed diving experience, only to be gripped by a sudden surge of panic. This time, I was on a boat again, watching divers lugging their heavy oxygen tanks prepared to back flip into the water. I was prepared to attempt another round, hoping the fear would have abated a little, but because of an ‘unforgettable’ incident which I will later elaborate, our diver friend, Shaz, decided that we’d better opt for a safer sport, and get geared up in life jackets to snorkel instead.

And so I splashed into the water in the above same fashion, literally like a tiny drop into the immense ocean.

Snorkeling was a wise decision, for the mere sight of the seabed, more than 10 feet below the surface, was enough to stir alarm at my first point of contact with the sea. The sheer immensity of the ocean, the sheer vastness, the sheer depth that stretches 20 or so feet below, invoked awe and fear at the same time. There I was suspended on top of the water with my dear life jacket, buoyed by the water that prevented my sheer plunge 10 to 20 feet to the bottom. The sea creatures, the corals, with funny looking clutter of sticks that would sting if you ever come in contact, mushy, icky underwater vegetation, novel schools of fish, appear indifferent to the intrusion of humans.

About to back flip

Being in the underwater world, submerged in the density of the liquid form, as opposed to weightlessness of air, is a whole new different state, a different feeling, entered a different world altogether. The fear of the unknown screams, as the mind plays tricks. A big part of the fear, of course, was my own undue imagination gone wild. I imagined monsters lurking among the corals, a sudden shock of unfamiliar sight of a sea creature, or the sudden discovery of the underwater world that Jar Jar Binks lived in Star Wars the Phantom Menace. All these appeared probable while I was underwater, the scenes played vividly on my mind asI surveyed life under the sea. To add on to my anxiety, I’d be unable to scream and yell, muted by the oxygen that my life so dearly cling onto.

Divers afloat before submerging

Living on land, fenced up in concrete, we forget that the sea takes up 70 percent of surface on earth. Cradled and cushioned with modern day facilities, amenities, and all forms of expediency and sophisticated safety measures, we have reduced all forms of risks by nature to the utmost minimal. Although fortunate, we are numbed and blunted by it. There out in the sea, shipped in the middle of the choppy waters on a rocky wooden fishing boat, vulnerable to a careless slap of a wave, I have exposed myself to the ferocity and terror of nature. Completely cut off from the supply of oxygen that we always took for granted, my life hung thinly on a tube that connects my lungs to the oxygen tank. Pressed by the immense weight of the water 10 meters down, I am at the mercy of the great waters. This would have eased had I underwent the full-length diving course, but then, I imagine the raw terror of the victim swallowed by the sea when nature strikes, though the numbers greatly decreased nowadays what with the emphasis of safety precautions.

Apart from the distance, we dived somewhere closer to shore. As a person less exposed to the waters, the experience was still rather scary. As not-so-strong swimmer, I was vulnerable to currents, occasionally panicky, swallowed some water, and has saltwater seeped through my goggles and stinging my eyes. Wouldn’t say it's lovely, or pleasant.

At one part of the dive spots, corals at the bottom were bleached, black, lifeless, dead, fishes were unresponsive to feed. This, according to our beloved saviour from the ‘unforgettable’ incident, is so due to many reasons other than from man-made pollution. Global warming, change in sea tides, all contribute to the state of these corals. According to one diver we met, it’s best to dive within these few years, else there’d be less beautiful corals or animals to see, which rings true.

Back to the shore, I valued my time sitting by the beach, watching the sun set, being lulled by the waves, charging my energy from nature before I head back to the drudgery of city life. My love for the sea, I find, lies in its calmness, its ability to sooth, and its powerful reminder of possibilities as vast as its horizon.

Us - Marcus, me, Jen & Mordred

Us & the Marine Monkees

Note: photos courtesy of Marcus and Mordred. Apologies for not having any underwater shots to complement my text, didn't have an underwater camera. :)

Watch out for Part 2: Our Little Jungle Adventure