The sites I dove at Pulau Tenggol in late August 2006
Early the next morning we head out to Tokong Timur, our first dive site for the second day. This too is a drift dive, circling two exposed rocks. We gather in a cleft between them and, sheltered from the choppy seas we make our descent. In moments we go from being washed and thrown by the waves to complete peace and silence, silence broken only by the sound of breathing. We descend through clouds of fusilers painting silver and gold ribbons through the deep. Once we enter the current we drift past layer upon layer of coral infested with tiny damselfish darting in and out of the crevices, parrotfish crunching noisily on their breakfast and then we spot another humpheaded wrasse swimming just above us. As he makes his way against the current and then I notice a lone great barracuda just a few meters from the wrasse. Upon exiting the current we play in the calmer waters behind the exposed rocks, searching amongst the massive boulders for nudibranches and other macro-life. I also see humpheaded bannerfish here, a first for me. Tokong Timur has not failed us, delighting us with massive schools of fusilers, abundant coral fish, a humpheaded wrasse and a lone barracuda. A welcome respite to a morning of answering calls and emails!
The next dive takes us to Tokong Talang. This dive site is much like Tokong Timur, a dive circling rocks that are exposed for a few meters above the surface. We descend again on the sheltered side of the rocks and find a thermocline at around 20 meters. It affects the visibility, making it difficult to see past 7 meters or so. We circle, keeping the rock on our left. I fall behind the divemaster and two others in our group because I am too interested in investigating a rock covered by some soft coral. The three of them swim left and out of sight behind a large boulder. I rush to keep up. As I poke my head out from behind the edge of the boulder, I can see my buddy and another diver hanging onto the rock as the current pulls them sideways. For a moment I am bewildered, because the boulder is protecting me from the current. Then the divemaster signals me to watch my bubbles. I exhale deeply and watch as the bubbles rise slowly from my regulator, up, toward the surface till they are suddenly whisked away. “Huh! Whisked away!” I think but then it slowly dawns on me. These are the strong currents we have been warned about here at Tenggol. Obviously they are nothing like the gentle currents that we experienced on our morning drift dive but rather the ripping currents that guard this castle. I bite my regulator tightly and swim out to face the current. It jets past me, pushing me back and I kick harder and harder trying just to move forward. Finally, I make it to a rock and hold on, thankful to let my legs rest. I begin to pull myself forward with my hands, almost climbing forward as the current whips past. As soon as I clear the rock I swim down to as close to the next rock. Here I find the current less and I am able to make my way forward with only minimal use of my hands.
So this becomes my process, finding the lowest point and swimming to it, using the rocks or reef to block the current and making my way forward, following the divemaster. I don’t really look for fish or nudibranches, I look for handholds I won’t feel bad about touching. When we finally surface, I feel like the initiation has ended. I feel drained, not just physically but emotionally as well. Like a student who has just passed a major exam, I know I have passed the test. No, I didn’t make the highest marks in the class but I did pass and I feel that it was worth all the scraping and clawing for handholds if it helps me be more confident in my scuba skills.
When we surface, there are just five of us. We climb into the boat, tired from fighting the current but once we get in the boat our tiredness slips away. Seven of us went in the water, where are the other two. We circle the rock, scanning the horizon for any sign of our friends. We watch as another boat picks up scuba divers that are also staying at our resort, hoping to spot a distinctive fin or BCD that will tell us our friends are with the other divers. No such luck. We circle the rock for the third time and I begin to see something…no! Just a fisherman’s float. The mood on the boat begins to sour after what seems like an eternity of searching and our thoughts flicker unbidden to those forbidden thoughts of disaster. Suddenly, the divemaster says, “Is that orange?” and turns the boat ninety degrees. Silently, we all scan the horizon for the next few moments, hope springing in our chests. “Yes! It is!” he shouts and almost simultaneously we are hurtling forward to the small speck of orange bobbing on the horizon. We reach the two divers in about four minutes. They smile with exhaustion, happy to see us but tired from the emotional exhaustion. I look back at Tokong Talang and realize just how far we have come and just how big the ocean is. Not a good place to be drifting around in for several hours.
