In September, a bunch of us from the dive club at work headed down to Tenggol for the long weekend. This was a particularly significant trip because it was the first one planned entirely by Takuya and myself. I don't think it's possible to understate the amount of nervousness I had going in.
From the onset, a bunch of things went wrong. The only bus company that plied the route between Singapore and Terengganu seemed terribly unsure of their own schedule. Then, on our way into Malaysia, we overshot our stop and ended up almost a hundred kilometres from the jetty. It was a huge relief when we finally got everyone checked into their rooms.
On good days, Tenggol is known for its clear waters and white beaches. But while we were there the haze levels hit a high, and the faint smell of smoke dogged us relentlessly throughout. Even underwater we never really escaped from the haze, for the gloom permeated everything indiscriminately.
Still, there were nice moments. We saw a whole variety of nudibranches, and there was a very large school of yellow-tailed fusilier that didn't mind our presence. Our underwater clean-up initiative was also a success - we sorted over fifteen kilograms of trash at the end of a forty minute dive on the house reef.
Nights were spent chatting over delicious home-style food, games of bridge, and some furtive facial sessions. A fellow guest who turned out to be a fire dancer put on thrilling performances on the beach two nights in a row. But the most memorable evening of all had to be the one when we released baby turtles - that the dive resort had reared from hatchlings - back into the sea. Watching them swim away, buffeted back and forth by the waves and getting smaller as they vanished into the darkness of the distance, you can't help but realise just how vast the world is.
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