Awoke in the early morning to flashing light and the rumble of thunder. A good storm, and I listen as it grows in intensity, before falling back to sleep. When I awake to the alarm, only rain remains. A steady drizzle – it’s going to be a soggy day.
After breakfast, I head down to the boat. Efficient on days when we’re visiting a site for the second time – no need for a briefing. We’re headed out to Tank,
which I requested (although I doubt that’s the reason), one of my favorites. The water is fairly calm, although a bit choppier when we get out of the cove. During the beginning of my stay here, I would slip over the side in snorkel and fins, and put my BCD on in the water. Easy peasy. In the past week, though, I have been entering from the back of the boat, slipping in with barely a forward roll.
Better when we’re visiting a site with a current – we all enter at the same time and (and I love this) we head straight down. No dilly dallying in this group!
We head down to about 80+ feet as I take the usual time to get my sinuses adjusted to the change in pressure, set the right amount of air in my BCD, and get used to the profile of the dive. I so often start off thinking that visibility isn’t so good and not much here, but after all the adjustments and a bit of time, things clear up and the beauty unfolds.
Tank rock is so named evidently because of it’s resemblance to that particular piece of equipment; I don’t see it. What I do see, though, is a huge wall filled with an indescribably diverse array of hard and soft coral, schools of fish at every turn and the occasional strong current around the next bend. I stare at the wall, trying to memorize everything so I can write about it here, but it’s so impossible that I started (finally) to consider having a camera to record it all. Imagine building an uneven rock wall, that sloped gradually down into the dark blue; carpet it ENTIRELY with a variety of corals: staghorn, brain, and i don’t know the name of the other 20+ varieties I saw that look like cabbages, stalagtites, rusty colored bumpy concrete, etc etc. Then sprinkle liberally with soft coral, which often looks like you took a head of cauliflower and stretched out the middle so as to resemble a cauliflower tree with a soft trunk and thick branches. The branches were capped with what look like cauliflowers, but instead are individual, tiny branches with 6 pointed stars on the end of each, so many bunched together to look like what we know to be that cruciferous vegetable. Many are the same soft white, but just as many are a pale, pale green/yellow color. And then there are feathery soft corals in black and brown; more soft cauliflower coral with white trunks and branches, but deep purple or bright orange foliage. Sometimes just an outright bright purple coral. I don’t know why, but the most outstanding are the orange….I just hang and stare at a rock wall covered with tufts of orange coral, the occasional pale green and black feathery amongst. It’s humbling to be among such beauty and the vibrant life of this reef. I feel so lucky that I can see this while it still exists – and understand that at one time all of earth was so lovely and lived in symbiotic harmony. (no gagging, please!)
Yes, there were a couple of bag old scraggly turtles munching away on the coral; a titan triggerfish digging a nest and dropping rocks into it, the usual grey reef and white-tipped sharks patrolling deep out in the perimeter, and schools of fish everywhere. Several times during the 60 minute dive, I would just hang and look at it all. There are no coffee table book pictures that are any more beautiful than the rainbow reef thick with schools of fish that I was witnessing. Try as I might, there was no way to seal it in a little file in my mind, to pull out whenever I was shivering in the snow, or packing up boxes in the house. Yes, I can take myself back, but even my imagination is not that vivid. I think you’re starting to get the idea.
Second breakfast, then out to Nudi Rock (because it looks just like a nudibranch from a distance – cute!) for my second dive. Another hour of drifting, ogling and just being in the midst of so much life. It’s always a wonder to me that non-divers look at the sea, ride on a boat, throw a fishing line in – but it’s a dark, one-dimensional, wet, huge expanse. Those who choose to enter the world and explore 30 – 90 feet under, come upon a whole other world, filled with beauty and tragedy, and different species all living together that is really almost unimaginable until viewed firsthand.
Seems today is definitely filled with waxing poetic. Forgive me. Many of you have told me how my writing makes you feel like you are right there. But for once, I have no words to describe what I’ve seen and experienced. Mmmmm…life is good.
Going for some lunch and my THIRD dive. Only day with 3, but gotta do it once. Tomorrow is our last full day, and not many people are going to dive – they’re concerned about their gear being dry upon departure, but I think I’m going to say what the hell. It’ll stink when I get home, but then I will wash and dry and that will have been a temporary issue.
Don’t think I’ll be posting again. Saturday morning is the 4 1/2 hour ride back to Sorong (in northeast corner of Papua), a sleepover, then up early to catch a couple planes to Jakarta. I have an 8 hour layover (hopefully I can get into the lounge – catch is when ANA ticket counter opens), then start my 30-hour trip home. Jakarta – Narita, Narita to O’Hare (hi Steve and Lauren!), then O’Hare to arrive in Demver around 11:30 am Monday morning, where my chariot will await, driven by a handsome prince. Thanks for sharing the latest adventure. I will send out a group email when I have posted photos (that will be a 6-hour project!).
xoxoxoxoxoxo to you all!