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We left Smelly Delhi on the 25th of April, spent one day in Singapore (so squeaky clean the streets felt like aisles in a pharmacy…too much to handle after India), then made our way to the east coast of Malaysia to Tioman Island. Remember the old Technicolor movie “South Pacific?” Well, Tioman was the island depicted as the mystical “Bali Hai.” If I remember correctly, every time they showed the island in the distance (a very poorly rendered backdrop) it even had it’s own vibrato-riddled, hypnotic theme song. |
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There’s not too much to write about Tioman. Mystical places are not necessarily the most electric places, but after a week in Delhi I figured either a lobotomy or a few months of beach time was due, and since I’ve already got enough scars I should probably settle for umbrella drinks. We’d spent a couple of days on another beach that wasn’t quite what we wanted, but the instant we laid eyes on Salang we knew it was the right place to unpack. Waking up to the sound of waves lapping gently over the white coral sand is how we start our days. Then it’s out to the palm tree shaded deck overlooking the pale blue water for coffee or tea and the intense planning of our day which usually goes something like this: The silence over coffee is shattered… Helen: Do you want to snorkel before or after lunch? Peter thoroughly contemplates and weighs all the options… Peter: Both (slurp). Very long pause... Helen: OK. |
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Actually, Tioman is known as one of the top scuba dive and snorkel spots in the world, and it seems like there are more dive shops on here then there are Starbucks in New York. The insane visibility, the colorful reefs, plus the multitudes of happy little, and some not so little, fishies makes for some amazing escapades. After a few weeks of snorkeling we finally decided to go deeper. Our friend Andy, who runs Scuba-Naut Diver Center, hooked us up and down we went. I’d been certified a long time ago and have dived throughout the years, but Helen had never gone under. At first she was a bit apprehensive then, as usual, she took off and I could barely keep up with her. We don’t have an underwater camera so A’Kil, the owner of Scuba-Naut, was nice enough to lend us his. Naturally, there had been a storm the days that we had the camera so the visibility in these shots is about one fourth of what it normally is. Beginning with the scuba shots you'll start to see a pattern emerging. Namely there are three other people you will see a lot of in these pictures: Ivo (red bandana), Marya (dreadlocks), and Andy (always smiling). It is a true gift that they are an integral part of our daily life. Another gift was that Andy asked me to work with him in Scuba-Naut – a decision that was not hard for me to make. |
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It’s pretty funny to watch the Chinese that invade Salang every weekend on package snorkel holidays where they take intensive snorkeling workshops. Yes, you read correctly, snorkel workshops, and I am totally serious here. If they pass the dry land training they move up to equipment fitting. From there, if they’re really on top of things they get fitted with the bright orange life vests signifying that they have ascended to full-blown snorkeler status and I guess they learn the secret snorkeler's handshake because they certainly act like a private club. When the proud graduates invade the beach it looks like D-Day. The locals call it the invasion of the orange turtles, but it looks more like a wet mosh-pit. Every sea creature within 5 miles immediately disappears, about 50 cubic tons of silt gets kicked up, and if you are stupid enough to go into the water during the orange offensive you will almost certainly exit the beach bruised and bloodied. The locals just laugh, kick back, and rake in the ringgit. |
