Parallel Universes and Infinite Possibilities on the Island of Stub-Tailed Cats

---

The Perhentian Islands do not have the best sand or the best food or the best sunset I’ve ever laid eyes on. This island of stub-tailed cats seems to defy all reality and reason and introduced me to individuals believing in, you decide, the impossible or scientific realm of parallel universes and infinite possibilities.

On this island, the cats must fear monitor lizards rather than poison in a box. One morning I saw an approximately 2-meter monitor lizard. It looked like a crocodile to me. A guy with a makeshift fishing rod dangled bait in the lizard’s face for entertainment. I’m told this amphibian’s tail can cause significant injury to a man’s leg and its bite is lethal because of the bacteria swarming in its mouth.

On this island, people risk a timeless existence of arriving and maybe departing. It seems to be a world situated outside the one I know. Here, I encountered a surreal string of strange coincidences. I write this wondering if any of it was real. To be honest, this entry might be obscure (if you can’t tell already). From the moment I stepped off the boat, each step I took on the island left me feeling unburdened and pleasantly stupid, which may explain the lack of photos and the bad-quality of the ones that I do have. The reality is that I lived in the moment and etched every detail into my mind.

Where to begin?

A few years ago on a trip to Cozumel, I met a diver who spoke passionately about diving. It seemed nice. My interest didn’t extend any further. It seemed like such a heavy load to carry around while travelling, a waste of money, and I wanted to work on my tan.

Idiot.

Within the past year of deciding to travel, I came across some photographs from divers around the world. I don’t know whether to call it serendipity, but one particular photo with a beatific crab spawning from red anemone took my breath away. I’ve seen my share of Discovery and Nat Geo episodes on the “otherworldly” nature of Mother Nature, but the alien quality of these creatures that live in the ocean finally caught my full attention. To think that I had experienced so little and knew so little of the ocean that dominates our earth. The realization was humbling. Though apprehensive, I was determined to experience diving first hand to witness in life what I had previously only seen on screen.

Transition

The minivan weaves quickly in and out of lanes. I’ve never faced so much oncoming traffic in my life. The roads wind Northeast from Father's Guest House towards Kota Bharu, then to Kuala Besut where we board a ferry to the islands. On the way, a woman from Holland recommends that I stay at Panorama when I reach the kecil (small) island.

She’s right. Panorama is a great place to stay, or perhaps I get lucky. I have no problems with mosquitoes in my spacious room (they’re bloodsucking fiends outside). Every day, I see cute geckos inside and outside of my room. They flit across walls, ceilings, and under fluorescent light bulbs snatching mosquitoes and flies.

SDI: Scuba Diving International

I contacted Gerulf aka Gerry on couchsurfing a few months prior because his profile states that he’s a dive instructor. We swap a few brief emails where he answers my questions on diving, tells me the differences between PADI and SDI, and agrees to teach me. It’s strange to meet a stranger in real life whom you’ve only seen in a photograph. There’s that eerie juxtaposition of having met and not met the person.

Gerry is one of the most concise speakers I’ve ever listened to; right to the point, he states our aims and leads the activities. New terminology blurs through my head when reading chapters on diving—BCD, bars, regulator, SDI, meters vs. feet—and I often zone out into the lazy heat of the beach. Small cats with strange chopped or bent tails scratch the floorboards and chase one another’s lacking tails providing me with plenty of distractions.

My first dive with Gerry, my awesome instructor at Sunlight Divers (yes, this is a recommendation for both instructor and dive shop), is setting up equipment and getting accustomed to everything. Underwater for the first time, I find it difficult to equalize my ears as they pop and block up, pop and block up, but once we reach the reef, my eyes can’t open any wider. Gerry tries to bring my hand close to the clams to feel the puff of air when they clamp down, but I’m breathing so hard and my heart’s beating so fast that I simply float higher in the water.

From a distance, I witness an elegant tube worm whipping shut, twelve large bump head parrotfish chomping on the corral, and a graceful lionfish hovering above the sand. The lionfish is especially fascinating because its long fins are like the flowing train of a gown dancing across the sandy floor accessorized with beautiful stripes and venomous spines arcing out of its back.

After a rewarding first day, we grab some Tandoori Chicken joined by one of my new friends I made the previous evening, Ignico from Barcelona. The conversation ranges from Quantum Physics and Shrodinger’s Cat in a Box, Chaos Theory, and other subjects that strike me dumb. In fact, I’m so quiet, Gerry says, “If we’re boring you, please let us know.”

I shake my head, “No. I just haven’t heard half this stuff before, so I’m just soaking it in.” The idea of parallel universes holding infinite possibilities is initially too abstract.

I insist, “You can’t say that everything possible will happen. You can’t say one thing is true and then say the opposite is also true. That’s a contradiction.” A and not A? That’s a fundamental contradiction to me. It takes me a while to null it over. And the two go on to explain the Schrödinger’s Cat, both dead and alive, and how parallel universes lead, convincingly, to infinite possibilities. Symbolic logic was never my strong suit.

Even as I write, I’m trying to wrap my head around the events that followed.

Day Two of Open Water Course

On day two, I join two other students for our Open Water Course. One student swims and breathes like a fish while the remaining student and I struggle on various activities. Trying to diminish our awkward oscillation by controlling our breathing, floating cross-legged so as to observe creatures underwater without disturbing the environment, remembering to breathe, equalize, empty our masks of water, and remain calm if things don’t go smoothly, we seem to be combining more of our skills and, I like to think, improving.

We float steadily in the water at one point letting tiny, delicate cleaner shrimp jump onto our fingernails. Just watching them jump onto your fingertips is a ticklish view. Only our second dive and we spot a Hawksbill Turtle who quickly disappears in the low visibility. I wonder if it's the fact that turtles seem to be uncoordinated and fumbling, that when they manage to finally swim with grace, it's all the more powerful to watch. Or perhaps it's their wizened eyes or rarity.

This evening, our group expands. The guys rail about insane women expecting men to have ESP. I think of How I Met Your Mother and Barney Stinson's (Neil Patrick Harris) hilarious graph detailing "the hotter a woman is, the more 'crazy' she can get away with."

The conversation proceeds to some weird coincidences that I still have yet to comprehend. Suffice it to say that, later on, when someone mentions "things coming around full-circle" this evening was probably the close of the first circle. We finish off 6 bottles of Monkey Juice, coke, and tons of ice.

A gay Indian man in a red cowboy hat tries to charm various men, but unfortunately finds himself out-of-luck and surrounded by women. The live band jams to indiscernible Western and Malay lyrics. And I’m impressed by a conversation that takes a stimulating turn with the listing of great authors that, really, only my father would recognize. After a slightly sobering long walk with miscellaneous rants and laughter, the last of our group calls it a night.

Final Day of Open Water

I fare well on my exam. We go into the water and spot a blue-spotted ribbon tail ray. It’s pancake body seems drab in contrast to the bright indigo spots on its back. So far, the most beautiful creature following the lionfish and turtle. It’s a small ray, but impressive enough to make me elevate up again.

It rains this evening. We listen to the live band play the usual: Oasis, The Cranberries, Lady Gaga, etcetera, with the cowboy showing off his Hindi gay moves like the previous night. Under the roof of the Monkey Bar, we run with the banter, laugh and drink. It continues to rain, and I witness the bioluminescence of the ocean. My eyes tantalized and hypnotized by the enigmatic creatures dancing in the black ocean with a pure blue glow of fairy-magic or an acid-trip. The wet night leaves us drenched as people move further down the coast, leaving the remainder of the beach hush minus a few individuals and couples who sneak back to their rooms.

Giving in to the Perhentians

Rest day. I sunbathe and float in the warm ocean sea. I guess one female dive instructor switches off seasons from the Perhentian Islands to Thailand and back again. I can see the lure.

I have no idea what day it is. I haven’t known for a while. I don’t care in the least. I'm simply humming in a wave of content that's terrifying at the same time. Is a person allowed to be this content? How long does it last? How did this come about? But the questions quickly fade away in the heat, and I'm just there again, in the humming, purring pleasure of simply "being" with an unexpected sense of endearment for the patch of sand where I lay.

Every day consists of bare feet, a sandy bed, cold/hot showers, and just basic necessities. Add diving and stimulating conversation and it’s the life. I’ve given in to the Perhentians.

Day One of Advanced Adventure Diving

I’m hooked. What began as curious steps into the mysterious depths of the ocean has become a full-on addiction in the span of a few days. And to hear that there is better diving out in the world is staggering.

We practice buoyancy. Swimming through a hoop, flipping around, floating on all sides, nothing like the dolphins, but it will take practice. On our second dive, we practice using the compass. I’m exhausted and disoriented at this point. Visibility is low and has turned more turbid in the previous days. The highlight is that I see a porcupine fish with a remora attached to its underbelly. I really hope to see one of these blown up with its spines sticking out.

It’s Gerry’s birthday, his friend’s come in from Norway, and our ever-growing group celebrates at Bubu’s. I’m famished and barely manage to focus on the conversation as I wait for my Mixed Grill to come out. Oh, and when it does, it’s mouth-watering protein heaven on a plate.

We move from the Monkey Bar to Black Tip. People are seated on thin mats surrounding low tables atop the sand. The tables are candlelit and a man dances with fire. The cowboy looks like he’ll be burnt by the flames as he tries to close the gap between himself and the muscular flame juggler. I’m not sure whether the entertainment comes from the dancing flames or close encounters of a flaming man. A girl saves him from third-degree burns to the relieved applause of the audience.

More laughter, more stories, more languages, and more music. Zed (I think is his real name), who works at Moonlight Chalet, names himself Zorro. I'm Catwoman, and we talk about the meaning of life. There’s a random guy from Colorado that reminds me of the distance I’ve travelled. A cute ginger-haired girl grabs the attention of many men.

We talk about the past vs. present vs. future and Cogito Ergo Sum. My friend says, “The past is for memories. The future is but a dream. And all we have is now.” I don’t know if this is a quote, but it seems a more succinct version of Do not dwell on the past. Do not dream of the future. Concentrate the mind on the present moment by Buddha.

Though I don’t really consider myself a Buddhist, I’ve been influenced to a degree. A Buddhist meditation book one of my aunts gave me speaks of the delusional “realities” that trap us and weigh us down. Once you realize these are of your own making, release them, and let go, you can float and find balance . . . a lot like diving.

The stars are brilliant this evening, nearing the stellar views in the dark mountains of Colorado when light-sapping cities are hundreds of miles away.

Day Two Advanced Diving

This is the morning of the approximately 2-meter Monitor Lizard. Huge. And I’m told that they even grow to 3 meters, which is mind blowing to me because my lack of encounters makes this fellow look like a slim croc.

My last day of diving in the Perhentians! I’m intimidated that I’ll be taking three dives. The shop’s shorthanded because Mike fell sick, and I feel horrid towards Gerry because he has to work so hard the day following his birthday, but there’s little alternative.

The first dive is the best. We begin with Sugar Wreck. This ship sank in 1999 during the monsoon. During a legal battle questioning whether fraud was involved, the ship collected rust at the bottom of the ocean. One side claimed fraud. The other side wanted to salvage parts and collect insurance.

When the nine-year battle ended, it was pointless to attempt any salvaging, so the wreck became home to many creatures of the ocean. BEST DIVE! No problems equalizing. Swimming is a breeze. I don’t miss a thing, from the hidden bamboo sharks and blue spotted rays to the scorpion fish and barracudas. The ship has been reclaimed by the sea with its coat of green and brown fuzz and overridden by barnacles. The current is strong, visibility poor, but, as a noob, I'm easily impressed.

Second dive. Deep dive at Tokong Laut. Along with the Spaniards filming a documentary on the Perhentians to finance their travels, we spot a gorgeous pink jellyfish with no visible tentacles. Its umbrella opens and closes in powerful contractions and its pinkish purple translucence is enthralling. There is a large (in my opinion) bamboo shark hiding in the shadows.

We look for Hector, the three-legged turtle who’s made his home in the area, but he’s elusive this dive. The tide is flat and the boat skates along the surface back to shore. We air-dry against the backdrop of shadowy blue mountains, tropical green islands, and the water's surface is spotted with boats.

Final dive. Night dive. I look forward to this dive, but come out pretty pissed. The other student was lost in his own world making it impossible to complete a full dive. Without really hitting the reef of beautiful slumbering fish, we abort and swim on the surface all the way to shore. Ah well, it’s better to end on a positive note, and we did. I receive my certification, and we celebrate the Open House Hari Raya with funky rice-cakes covered in sweet curry. We sip a couple beers, nothing crazy, and listen to music. Each person seems lost in their own thoughts. There isn’t much talk this evening. I return to my room, take a nice hot shower and pack my bags. I wonder what's next?

In the span of a week, the Perhentian Islands could have easily consumed my dreams and aspirations in its hypnotic, daily lull. I’ve been to other beaches, but no place felt so instantaneously home-like, so comfortable, and in such a magical way. If I rub my eyes and find it isn’t real, I think I’d rather be imaginary.

The seeming expansion of time in the space of a week only supports the idea that it isn’t real. Or perhaps it’s another one of Schrödinger’s infinite possibilities, and I was fortunate enough to be in this universe for this possibility. Perhaps this sounds too psychedelic and drug-induced, but I assure the reader that I’m not hyping up my experience and no drugs were involved.

As I sit on the pier of Kuala Besut waiting for friends to arrive, I put on my sunglasses to brace the glare of the sun. I chat with Liz who prepares to order mainland pizza for the boys back at the shop. A taxi-drive and a few hours later, hugs goodbye, and everyone is gone.

I sit in the tiny airport writing and dwelling on recent events, awestruck by the intensity and overwhelming rush of life that coursed through my tired body. And to think, there's so much left unstated.

---

Comments

[Glenn]

Great description.
Great description. Very detailed and dreamlike. I'm glad you didn't stay too long. Over indulgence would have ruined it. It takes courage to try something completely new in a strange place with a teacher that is unfamiliar. It would have taken me three days just to gain my equanamity.