Truly Asia

Pulau Sipadan: Malaysia's Marine Sanctuary

"Malaysia, Truly Asia." The catchy commercial phrase ran through my head as the plane landed in Kota Kinabalu. Would my odyssey in Borneo live up to the Malaysian government's tourist slogan? I had some time to find out.

The taxi dropped me off at Akinabalu Youth Hostel in the center of the city. After checking in, I walked to an open-air food court. On the way, I passed restaurants selling noodle and curry dishes with a golden star and half moon embossed on the window indicating halal food for Muslims. Bearded men wearing white caps sat at tables sipping tea.

Seafood is fresh in Kota Kinabalu which faces the South China Sea. I ordered chili prawns and a Tiger beer from a Chinese woman standing in front of several large aerated water tanks filled with live fish. I sat down at one of the round tables encircling an elevated stage with Malaysian men and women dressed in multicolored costumes dancing to gamelan music while I ate dinner. The sound of the brass drums was enchanting in the humid night air.

Back at the hotel, I browsed through colorful brochures adver- tising jungle treks with orangutans in Sepilok and overnight hikes to Mount Kinabalu (4,101 meters), the highest mountain in South East Asia. There was even a pamphlet enticing me to see the red Rafflesia kerrii, the world's largest flower. But, what caught my eye were the adverts for Sipadan. A white beach surrounded by sparkling turquoise water filled with colorful reef fish was my destination.

I flew on Air Asia to Tawau the next day. After leaving the air- port, my taxi whizzed by hectares of green palm oil trees and veiled Muslim women selling spiky brown durians and round, purple mangosteens by the road. I could smell the sticky sweet odor of the durians through the car window. Houses built on long stilts with cars parked beneath them could be seen in the distance.

An hour later, I arrived in the fishing port town of Semporna. The entrance to the Dragon Inn, built over murky water, where I stayed had on display a stuffed grouper fish nearly a meter long. I wondered if I would see one live underwater in Mabul.

At 8:30 the next morning, I boarded a speedboat with two outboard motors headed for Mabul Island. I booked my trip with Uncle Chang's Dive Lodge.

"Put your pack in this plastic bag," said the tourist from Italy sitting next to me.

"Why?" I asked.

"This is my third trip to Sipadan and the boat spray really cools you off," he said with a smile. He was right. Twenty minutes out of Semporna I was half wet. Water sloshed over my feet as we rocked back and fourth on the waves.

Approaching Mabul Island, I could see Uncle Chang's yellow resort propped up on wooden pilings overlooking crystal clear ocean water. Numerous orange and blue sea stars were rest- ing on the sandy sea bottom.

"There's an island in the Celebes Sea/The name's Sipadan you must go and see/If you're a diver and you want the best/Come go along and we'll do the rest,"sang the staff members as the boat docked at the resort.

"What's that?" I asked the Italian tourist.

"Uncle Chang's Sipadan Song. They sing it when the boat arrives and leaves Mabul," he replied while laughing. Mabul, a 20-hectare oval shaped island, is 15 kilometers north of Sipadan. To preserve the underwater environment, in 2005, the Malaysian government banned resorts on Sipadan, limited divers/ snorkelers to 120 per day, and imposed a 40 Ringgit fee (¥100=2.98 Malaysian Ringgit) to visit the marine park. As a result, Mabul has several hotels. Sipadan Water Village is the top and Uncle Chang's is the best choice for budget travelers.

I dropped my bag in my room, ate a quick breakfast, sorted out some scuba gear, and hopped on a small boat going to Paradise - the house reef. "You can snorkel near the jetty," said the dive guide.

Several snorkelers wearing bright orange float- ation vests jumped off the boat. The rest of us rolled back into the water with scuba tanks and descended down along the reef to 12 meters. Immediately we swam into a big school of silver barracuda and a group of yellow snappers. Later we saw three big cuttlefish, several crocodile fish, a frogfish, four big, green sea turtles, and three flying gurnards. Before ascending I saw a blue spotted stingray gliding along the sandy bottom searching for food or shelter.

"We saw three turtles," the snorkeler shouted as she climbed back into the boat.

"At Sipadan you will see as many as fifty at a time if you can keep count," the dive guide said as we sped back to Mabul.

That evening I ate a buffet dinner of grilled barracuda, curry chicken, green beans with red chili peppers, rice, yellow pickled-papaya salad, and sliced fresh pineapple. After the meal, Uncle Chang's staff entertained us with a live band. Later, I sat on the wooden pier and gazed at the stars. A turtle poked its head out of the water breathing air as it swam by the dock.

The next day, I explored Mabul on foot. I passed by the domed mosque and walked through the resident fishing village. Many small children darkened from the sun waved at me while playing outside their brown stilt houses. Several shops selling shark jaws, coral jewelry, and shells were set up for tourists. In the after- noon, I read on the white sand while tall coconut trees shaded me from the tropical sun. I could see the pagoda shaped rooms of Sipadan Mabul Resort built over the blue water in front of me. They looked like shrines dedicated to the sea god Neptune.

"Sipadan," the boatman shouted the next morning. I was thrilled because I had a permit for three dives that day. Manta rays, hammerhead sharks, giant trevally, and many marine fish swam through my mind as I jumped on the speedboat. Snorkeler's vests were tucked up in nets hanging from the boat's protective roof. Thirty minutes later we reached Sipadan. When Jacques Cousteau visited the island for his second time in 1988 he declared it an "untouched piece of art."

"You can see white tip sharks and turtles this side of the beach," the dive guide told the snor- kelers as he pointed to the reef five meters away.

"After lunch you can take the boat with the divers to Barracuda Point," he continued while zipping up his black wet suit.

Sitting on the boat at 3:30pm heading back to Mabul, I reminisced about my three dives at Sipadan. I saw an enormous swirling ball made up of black-stripped silver barracudas, hundreds of sliver jacks, slender grey sharks close enough to touch, turtles eyeballing me like an alien, and a huge school of green bumphead parrotfish charging over the reef like stamping buffalo. I could hear them crunching the coral as they passed by me.

Art? Sipadan was a watercolor painting. Truly Asia? I will seek the answer on the land next time I visit Malaysia.

Days later, while boarding the boat for Semporna, I heard Uncle Chang's band playing," Sad to say you're leaving today/Sipadan will be far away/I know that when you leave her shore/ There will be memories in your heart forever more."

Text & photos: Timothy L Willis