Once again, we are known as the Dr. Doolittles of Salang Beach. Just after we arrived an uber-prego mama cat got attacked by an 8 foot monitor lizard which almost snapped one of her rear legs off. We got to her within hours of the attack and infection had set in so badly that we really didn’t think she would live.  Much less have any use of the leg. The ripped flesh had so many holes in it that when I used a syringe to flush the wound it looked like water being poured through a sieve and you could smell the pungent odor of her rotting flesh up to about 10 feet away. To top it all off, we were afraid just holding her for treatment would induce labor. Well, I’m very happy to say that after 3 weeks of constant care the wound healed and she became a wonderful loving mother with a severe limp. Unfortunately, male cats eventually killed all her kittens so she would be able to go into heat again.

When we moved into our beach hut there was another super-pregnant cat who we befriended. She was so fat that she looked like a bowling pin. We gave her food and made sure she always had somewhere comfortable to sleep. All of a sudden she disappeared. Then one afternoon a few weeks later the new mama came around the corner with a kitten in her mouth, dropped it and went back for the second one…..and then the third. Oy Vey – we were grandparents! I became the redneck grandpa and took to sleeping with a full bucket of water by my bed to drench any male cat that got within 50 yards. Unfortunately, one of the little guys didn’t survive but Trouble and Clawed have grown into lovely boys and been very kind in letting Helen and I pay their rent and stay in their house. And finally, here is proof that wearing fur doesn't mean murder!

What did Joni Mitchell sing? Oh, yes…”they paved paradise and put up a parking lot.” So true, so true. About 2 months after our arrival some rocket scientist gave the OK for construction to start of a new cell phone tower right behind our little hut. The next thing we knew a huge barge with tons of gravel, rebar, two bulldozers, and other various loud construction contraptions was parked right off the beach of our lovely little Shangri-La. All the workers moved in next door (4 to a shack x 3 shacks), and the construction began. You must note that this is taking place right in the middle of tourist season. After about a month it all became white noise, but initially it was hell.

Here are a couple of stories that are a reality slap in the face:

A tragedy occurred within 3 day’s of our arrival. Andy and I we’re sitting in a restaurant discussing unimportant things and a local woman came running to us with a beach emergency. A boat had pulled a woman out of the ocean. Her face and fingers were turning purple. She was dead. We tried to get her blood flowing by performing CPR while on a 15 minute boat ride through a very bumpy sea to the hospital in the main village on Tioman. She never revived. As we later learned, she was with a group of five others who had spent three rough days and sleepless nights to get to Tioman from Siberia. They had arrived that very morning and her husband had goaded her into snorkeling around a small island that lay off the beach. The current was strong, the water choppy and cold, and was she exhausted before even getting into the water. A very sad story in the book of vacationers who think they’re invincible because they’ve earned a few weeks off work. It happens much more often than you’d think.

We got to see the Malaysian Marine Police in action as they busted an illegal Thai fishing boat just off the waters of Tioman. Starsky and Hutch brought them in, fined them, took half their illegal catch, wheeled the confiscation to the closest restaurant and sold it. Then, in a token show of gratitude the restaurant gave them all free meals and booze all night in appreciation. Yep, the Marine Police are useless. Tioman is a sanctuary that is surrounded by a 2 nautical mile boundary where noting in the water can be touched, poked, prodded, or tread upon, yet we see jet-ski’s, people fishing off the pier, night fishing (boats shine huge arc lamps into the water to attract fish), cyanide fishing (the cyanide cooks right out of the fish), we’ve heard of dynamite fishing, people have photographs of other divers capturing rare fish species, the boat driver of one dive shops gathered turtle eggs in front of stunned onlookers ­– all kinds of really bad infringements go on in this so-called “marine park” while the authorities just sit idly. Their line of defense is that they didn’t see the infraction with their own eyes. Well, if they got their butts out of the bar early enough to wake up before sunset things might be different. Every time we board the ferry boat from the mainland the Marine Cops charge a park entrance free. They run from me now because they all know I’ll give them a earful.

At the moment we’re in the UK and while I should be catching up with family, friends, movies, museums, and bathing in the oasis of first world culture I’m updating this bloody website. OK, enough writing, sometimes this thing is a real drag to keep going. We're in London now and, as they say, when in Rome...so I'm off to the pub now. Here are a parting shots of the island, some of the local art, the answer to the burning question of whether or not flip-flops can be sexy, and some profound life advice.

And finally, here's a beautiful photo that Peter from Austria took of a storm that took about 15 minutes to form from a cloudless sunny day.

Next stop: Borneo.

pmb 24.7.08