We left Bangkok on a night bus that took us south over many hours. As the sun rose, we boarded a boat to Koh Tao, an island known for diving and partying. By ten am, our journey had landed us again on land but for ten days cement became sand and highways became ocean. We piled into the bed of a pick-up truck and crawled down the beach to the dive resort that would be home for the next four nights.
Ever since I first saw Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, there are two things that I have always wanted to try in real life. First, I have always wanted fruit embossed wallpaper that tastes like whatever fruit you lick--genius. And the second scene I have wanted to reenact is the one in which Charlie and his uncle, in a moment of conscious rebelliousness, sneak off to sip the unknown liquid in the forbidden room, for in that room they discover a liquid that makes them rise. They sip and stare at each other in disbelief that the wonderful Willy Wonka has created something that does nothing. But within moments they begin to rise and the fun begins. Their adventure comes to a quick halt, though, as they near a fan that threatens to ruin their time. As they near their dangerous demise, they begin to burp and slowly, slowly the drift back down, their breath controlling their descent. This is what I thought of the first time I tipped over backwards off a boat and into an ocean where my breath would control me.
My dive course started just a few hours after we arrived. My instructor was an impossibly hot Swedish girl, dressed in a bikini and a tan. My class was a mix of of Israelis, a pair of Scots, a Dutch guy, a Brit and me the lonely American. We watched many videos, took quizzes, learned about the equipment, buoyancy and of course about the importance of breath. Our first dive was in the pool but by the third day we were suited up to dive in the ocean. It is an insanely surreal experience to jump from a boat, far from land, and knowingly sink yourself twelve meters under water, even strapping weights to your body to make sure you stay down. But alas this whole rig of oxygen and gauges and respirators proves its worth and you breathe underwater. You actually breathe underwater. You breathe as fish swim past and reefs live below. We sat in a circle on the bottom of the ocean and passed test after test--clearing our masks, replacing our respirators, and even following a compass out and back.
On the third of fourth dives in two days, we dove to eighteen meters, the max depth for an open water diver. We dove as a group but were close to many other divers, including O
ded, who is an advanced diver and can go to thirty meters. As we neared sixteen meters, I saw a diver not from my group raise his palm with his thumb pressed against his forehead, almost as if he was going to give someone a high-five. We had learned a number of underwater signs over the course, but this one was clear to divers and non-divers alike--SHARK. Five meters ahead of me a bull shark shimmied its way through the water. It was two meters in length and an amazing sight. We also saw clown fish, groupers, and sting rays. With my fourth dive done, I am officially a certified open water diver. Great Barrier Reef, here I come!
As an island, Koh Tao is almost all divers and dive resorts and friends come easily here. We met a Norwegian duo--Martin and Horvald--and I immediately took to Martin. It may have been his jolly nature or his good stories but the cherry red Red Sox hat he donned may also have had something to do with it. We spent a night out with the two of them and two other Norwegian girls, fresh from high school and on an around the world jaunt. I am not sure how it came up but the two girls shared a confirmed Norwegian tradition that sounds like something to see--in the month of May in Norway, all graduating seniors are tasked with not only getting drunk but performing silly tasks that garner badges for them to tack onto even sillier hats that they are required to wear. For example, kiss a policemen and get a police patch. Throughout the month, they sleep in parks, rotaries, friend's backyards. They wear uniforms based on what they studied and apparently laundry is forbidden for the duration of the festivities. After seventeen days, exams commence and this class of Norwegians join the ranks of the country's adults--it's like a Bar Mitzvah on acid minus the Torah portion. We left Koh Tao on a speed boat, having made many new friends and loads of promises to visit and host and dive again soon.
To see photos of Koh Tao, please click me
Ever since I first saw Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, there are two things that I have always wanted to try in real life. First, I have always wanted fruit embossed wallpaper that tastes like whatever fruit you lick--genius. And the second scene I have wanted to reenact is the one in which Charlie and his uncle, in a moment of conscious rebelliousness, sneak off to sip the unknown liquid in the forbidden room, for in that room they discover a liquid that makes them rise. They sip and stare at each other in disbelief that the wonderful Willy Wonka has created something that does nothing. But within moments they begin to rise and the fun begins. Their adventure comes to a quick halt, though, as they near a fan that threatens to ruin their time. As they near their dangerous demise, they begin to burp and slowly, slowly the drift back down, their breath controlling their descent. This is what I thought of the first time I tipped over backwards off a boat and into an ocean where my breath would control me.
My dive course started just a few hours after we arrived. My instructor was an impossibly hot Swedish girl, dressed in a bikini and a tan. My class was a mix of of Israelis, a pair of Scots, a Dutch guy, a Brit and me the lonely American. We watched many videos, took quizzes, learned about the equipment, buoyancy and of course about the importance of breath. Our first dive was in the pool but by the third day we were suited up to dive in the ocean. It is an insanely surreal experience to jump from a boat, far from land, and knowingly sink yourself twelve meters under water, even strapping weights to your body to make sure you stay down. But alas this whole rig of oxygen and gauges and respirators proves its worth and you breathe underwater. You actually breathe underwater. You breathe as fish swim past and reefs live below. We sat in a circle on the bottom of the ocean and passed test after test--clearing our masks, replacing our respirators, and even following a compass out and back.
On the third of fourth dives in two days, we dove to eighteen meters, the max depth for an open water diver. We dove as a group but were close to many other divers, including O
ded, who is an advanced diver and can go to thirty meters. As we neared sixteen meters, I saw a diver not from my group raise his palm with his thumb pressed against his forehead, almost as if he was going to give someone a high-five. We had learned a number of underwater signs over the course, but this one was clear to divers and non-divers alike--SHARK. Five meters ahead of me a bull shark shimmied its way through the water. It was two meters in length and an amazing sight. We also saw clown fish, groupers, and sting rays. With my fourth dive done, I am officially a certified open water diver. Great Barrier Reef, here I come!
As an island, Koh Tao is almost all divers and dive resorts and friends come easily here. We met a Norwegian duo--Martin and Horvald--and I immediately took to Martin. It may have been his jolly nature or his good stories but the cherry red Red Sox hat he donned may also have had something to do with it. We spent a night out with the two of them and two other Norwegian girls, fresh from high school and on an around the world jaunt. I am not sure how it came up but the two girls shared a confirmed Norwegian tradition that sounds like something to see--in the month of May in Norway, all graduating seniors are tasked with not only getting drunk but performing silly tasks that garner badges for them to tack onto even sillier hats that they are required to wear. For example, kiss a policemen and get a police patch. Throughout the month, they sleep in parks, rotaries, friend's backyards. They wear uniforms based on what they studied and apparently laundry is forbidden for the duration of the festivities. After seventeen days, exams commence and this class of Norwegians join the ranks of the country's adults--it's like a Bar Mitzvah on acid minus the Torah portion. We left Koh Tao on a speed boat, having made many new friends and loads of promises to visit and host and dive again soon.To see photos of Koh Tao, please click me
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