the perhentian islands

Escaping the SARS scare of Singapore, I shoot off to Malaysia on the train. Yes, the train. I love the train and would take this over a plane any day. So I left by night train and arrived in clean starched sheets the next morning in northern Malaysia. I popped out of the local train station and jumped into a taxi, after the compulsory roti channai and tea-terek, and sped off to Besut to catch a speedboat the lovely Perhentian Islands. A real paradise as far as I am concerned. The sea lying down flat as we speed towards the islands- the ocean welcoming me home.

At the island I join a resort called 'Watercolors', very appropriate for I come as a diver and artist. The team there is friendly and the accommodations Spartan. The reasonable price includes lots of sun and fresh air so I am happy. My daily meditation includes a scuba dive, a snorkel or a kayak ride somewhere around the island to some clean empty beach. Paddling alone makes it easier to decide where to stop and when.

Hitching a ride on a dive boat jetting off to one of the two dozen nearby sites, I get a charge out of free diving with 6kgs of weight so that I can dive down to 20+ meters and just drift with the coral heads and hump head parrotfish. Holding my breath for extended periods and getting absorbed in the seascape, I occasionally forget that I am a mammal and need to breathe air. I follow a lone turtle that has a friendly batfish beside him. Then the batfish shuns her suitor and follows me as I surface for air. A black tip shark in the distance skirts into the blue-gray void. Blue-spotted rays hide in cracks while moray ells slither to safer holes. Schools of fish out on recess dart around me as I sink and rise with the current. The sea enveloping and embracing me as one of its own.

Yes, it is grand to be in the sea, especially without equipment. Expanding my lungs to the size of Texas allows me to stay down up to three minutes and plenty of time to drift silently and look around at the vastness or the huge blue bowl I find myself floating in. the sea is giant blocks of water with a few dots of rocks sprinkled on it like a birthday cake. We are but little sand flies that dip and dart around the fringes of these coral massifs. Free to spin, flip and summersault, diving inside the oceans womb we return to our root.

When the dive is done, I scurry back to my little bungalow and sketch with abandon the life I find below the surface. Colors and shapes dart about the page as the enveloping seawater holds everything together. Home again I feel as I indulge myself in the joys of expressing a world apart and free of restraints. Water is my anchor but when moving through it, I take flight.