The Asia Adventures

“I know it’s exciting…” John leans over to open the tank valve, causing my BCD to balloon into life. “…just don’t use all your air at once.”

Our bottoms dangle over the side of the boat, fingers grasping the edge. Thankfully I’m not the only one struggling with the tank’s weight and the surge of the current. Our dive instructor, John, checks all around and gives me the thumbs up. The boat-master, a bow-legged man with sun-weathered skin, grins at me. His top tooth is missing and the other stained yellow. “Now good. You go.”

Releasing my grip, I allow the tank to drag me backwards into the water.

It’s hard to truly know Nusa Lembongan until you've seen what lies in the waters surrounding it. Away from the crowds of Kuta and Seminyak, the island is renowned for its ivy-blue seas and the curious oceanic fish that swim within them. Maybe you’ve already heard of the famed sunfish, the Balinese 'mola-mola'; however, I’m here to see something else.

We descend into a valley of coral which rises above us like outstretched fingertips trying to break the surface. The waves that crash on to the cliff face above create a gentle swell; we sway from side to side in a sub-aquatic waltz, the bits and bobs that dangle from our jackets like tassels to our watery ball gowns.

Fragments of light refract through the shallows and catch a shoal of fish; the scales glint like tiny shards of metal. Pink, orange and rose-coloured anemones wave lazily from the top of the reef. A parrot-beaked fish, the colour of a smudged rainbow, feasts on the coral banquet whilst black-tail snappers play chase across the sea bed. An idle lion fish pouts and waves us away with his frayed fins.

The sun is suddenly eclipsed by a shadow. This is what we’ve been waiting for. I spin around and gaze at the smooth, white belly drifting overhead, just a few metres from my mask. It sighs, unfolding its gills, so close I can count the years of scars etched into its skin. Another one appears, followed by two more; they dip over the coral and sail towards us, wings skimming the reef top. They soar, they glide, they spiral: the manta rays have arrived.

All too soon John signals to start our ascent. As we rise, a silhouette looms towards me. My winged friend passes by one final time before diving back into the depths.

People often ask me why I learned to dive. I tell them it’s for moments like this.