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Published: February 5th 2006
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Ko Phaluai getting rained on
As I munched on prawns on the beach, the poor people on the neighbouring island got soaked Quarter to seven in the morning. And I’m waiting outside the hotel for my pick-up to take me diving. It’s quite warm already, but I have quickly become acclimatised. And so am wearing a jumper today.
Yesterday’s diving was really good, a bit of a shock at first, as I haven’t been diving for about four years, and I needed a bit of a refresher course. It took me a few minutes to remember that I was able to breathe underwater. And I got stuck on descent. As my full-length wetsuit was dry (bit of an oxymoron), I was more buoyant than I should have been, and lingered, albeit gracefully, at about 5 metres, as the rest of the group descended into the depths. The divemaster signalled to me to ask if I was alright, however, I didn’t know the correct sign language for “I can’t sink”, and so just sort of waved my arms. He got the message, grabbed one of my fins, and pulled me down. Once I’d got to about ten metres, I was fine, and glided along with the rest of them. A nice easy drift around, looking at all the fishies, and the 45 minutes went awfully quickly.
Today, we had a long journey ahead of us. A new site has recently been discovered, a large rock in the middle of nowhere, out beyond Koh Tao. After about an hour’s boat ride, the water got a bit choppy, and as we were in a typical Thai diving boat, not a speed boat or catamaran, it got very bumpy and rocky. The small boat is a two-storey job: the dry area is on the top deck, which sways a lot as you plough through the waves. We were advised to lie down, as diving when feeling nauseous is not a pleasant experience, though I have it on good authority that you can throw up into the regulator (or life support breathing apparatus to those non-divers among you). As I was the only girl on the trip, with five other blokes, they let me have the best spot, out of the blistering sun and near the back, where the boat rocks slightly less. Another bonus of being the only girl is that I had all the heavy work done for me, the divemaster set up my tank and jacket for me, and when I was attempting to heave myself out of the water after an exhausting dive, one of the Italians jumped back into the water, undid my jacket for me, and let me get out unencumbered by the heavy setup, which he hoisted out for me. There was no fanning with palm leaves or feeding with grapes though, unfortunately.
The actual dive was incredible, we were the only six out there, and once we’d gone past about two metres, it became incredibly calm. There was a pretty strong current, which I felt in my legs once I’d got home. It was all worth it though, the long trip out, the falling in rather than elegantly stepping into the water when a wave caught me off guard, and the bright pink, sunburned hand and ankle I got when I fell asleep on the way back. The life was amazing. I wish I had an underwater camera, as I floated on my back, watching two of the guys coast over the top of the reef, sunlight behind them glinting through twenty metres of green water, hundreds of tiny fish hovering below the two rubber humans. And as we rounded the corner out of the current, we were greeted by a wall of thousands of silver fish, the type from ‘Finding Nemo’ who hang around together and speak as one (for those of you with small children who have endured it tens of times, or those with the mind of a small child who watched it voluntarily). We swam along with them for a while; they didn’t seem to mind our presence at all. I got a bit nervous when, as one, they all turned and started swimming in the opposite direction. What do they know that we don’t? Nothing appeared out of the murky depths, although I did manoeuvre myself behind the divemaster, so he’d get eaten first, I mean, be able to fight off the monsters. We saw lots of trigger fish, though they weren’t aggressive at all, unusually. When I was doing my advanced course on Koh Phi-Phi, one of the others on the course thought it would be hilarious to taunt a trigger fish. Their natural enemy has been eliminated by us, and trigger fish do know humans’ weak spots, they tend to go for the face mask first. Anyway, this trigger fish got annoyed, and started to head towards his evil taunter. All his courage disappeared in a flash, and he leapt behind me, as the trigger fish took a lump out of my leg. I still have the scar, I long for the time when men were gallant and chivalrous. And women wore wimples. I think I’d look good in a wimple.
Anyway, these trigger fish hadn’t had much contact with humans yet, and so peacefully nibbled the coral as we gazed, goggle-eyed, at them. On our second dive after lunch, we swam through a tunnel, breathing as little as possible so as not to get too much air trapped, which could leave some animals literally high and dry. There were loads of black spiky sea urchins with bright blue centres, Christmas Tree worms (or Japanese Gardens) in every colour imaginable, orange clown fish wriggling through the bright white anemones…an absolutely idyllic dive.
As a treat, we had chips on the way home, after all that swimming and fresh air, they tasted incredible. And as I fell asleep in the setting sun, the return trip home went very quickly. After a hot bath, a lot of cream on my sore, pink ankle, I met up with two of the divers for a pad thai and a Singha beer, as we sat on the beach and watched the moon rise over Ko Phaluai, the closest island. Perfect end to a perfect day.
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