Lankayan Island Beach Resort, Malaysia

Dear Fellow Diver,

I backrolled off the side of our 30-foot dinghy, and by the time I popped up and looked around, the current had already pulled me 10 feet away. While we had been told there might be a current, I had to kick with everything I had to get to the boat's grab line. I reached up for my camera, then pulled myself along the length of the boat, finally managing to clip my camera to my BC. At the mooring line, I dropped to 30 feet to wait for the others below the vicious surface current.

In the murky 20-foot visibility, I followed our guide, Will, to a sandy, stirred-up bottom at 62 feet. I found a couple of shrimp gobies, and then we worked our way up the reef, locating a curious foot-long cuttlefish. As we followed the steep slope higher, the visibility opened up to 50 feet, revealing a reef covered in cream, yellow, and electric-blue staghorn coral: eight-banded butterflyfish, reticulated angelfish, and scores of damsels darted about. Will pointed out a barramundi under a large coral head, and I noted a few highfin coral groupers.

It was a nice dive, and we all ascended to the safety stop at 50 minutes, 10 minutes early, because many divers had sucked their air fighting the surface currents. The divers stayed close together because no one wanted to be separated in the strong surface current. Will inflated his surface marker buoy, and the boat quickly arrived.

It had been a cramped and crowded adventure getting to Lankayan Island Dive Resort, located in the middle of the 179-square-mile Sugud Islands Marine Conservation Area (SIMCA), northeast of Borneo. A van packed with divers and gear picked us up at our Sepilok hotel. Luggage was stacked to the ceiling. My partner and I squeezed in for the 25-minute ride to port, where we boarded a 35-foot boat to ferry us to Lankayan Island -- a 90-minute ride that turned into a rough two hours.

Thirty minutes into our March journey, three-foot waves pounded the boat, showering us with salt spray. I buckled my life vest, and after going airborne, I moved from the bow to the stern and donned the thin poncho that I had fortuitously brought. Larger waves slammed into the boat, bouncing people off their seats. When my poncho began shredding in the wind, I tossed my chair cushion on the floor behind the seats to protect myself from the stinging spray. Miles from anywhere, this seemed a foolhardy journey.

At last, the seas calmed as we approached the resort dock in the lee of the island. Leaving the luggage to the crew, I was relieved when I entered the handsome, cavernous dining and reception area, built over the water, and was handed a fruit drink as I registered.

The resort consists of 24 beach chalets and nine chalets over the water. After being pointed in the direction of my chalet, I followed a long boardwalk down a shaded path, the jungle on one side and waterfront chalets on the other. I arrived at a chalet on stilts and entered my home for the next six days. Beneath the 25-foot ceiling, two wall-to-wall glass windows framed an ocean view. The spacious room had enough room for me to dance a jig despite being furnished with a queen and twin beds, a desk, three chairs, small tables, and a refrigerator. The spa-worthy bathroom featured rain showers adjacent to a free-standing tub almost big enough for two (and with sea views). Waves washing under the chalet played the ocean's sleep-inducing natural music. I could already visualize myself sitting on the deck with a cup of coffee, watching the turtles swim by with the sun rising in the background. My travel frustrations melted away.

After lunch, it was time for a checkout dive. The dive shop is at the end of a long dock that crosses over shallow coral reefs and sandy bottom frequented by sea turtles, blacktip reef sharks, and even a bumphead parrotfish. Everything is new because the entire dive center was destroyed by an electrical fire a year ago. It has three gear rinse bins, a fourth for cameras and electronics, and four showers. Three sets of stairs descend to the water for the excellent shore diving (they offer three boat dives per day). A sturdy picnic table sufficed for a camera table and even had a power pole for topping off batteries.

Will, a young dive guide from Malaysia, and unfortunately a chain smoker, was assigned to us. He nervously gave us the basic briefing: stay with a buddy, don't go below 100 feet (usually impossible for our dives), follow your guide, no decompression diving, notify the guide when you reach 1000 psi, and touch nothing. The other guide, Wendy, handled the smaller groups of divers. When Will announced that dives would be 45 minutes, one diver in my group (I had traveled with five others) proclaimed that our experienced group would dive for 60 minutes. Will was taken aback, but relented, saying we could extend our dive after we completed the checkout off the dock. Most dives became 60 minutes, unless Will's conservative computer objected or someone was low on air.

Off the dive center dock, a rope led to a series of artificial structures and two small wrecks; without the rope, I doubt I could have found my way in the poor visibility due to the stirred-up seas. My buddy and I found four ornate ghost pipefish and a prancing signal goby during our tour. It was enough to make me want to return later in the week when the visibility improved.

The checkout was without currents, but the next day, after I was pulled away from the boat, it took me two more dives, in pelting rain, to get used to the strong surface currents and 30 to 40-foot visibility.

However, I wasn't prepared for what happened next. One diver descended the mooring line below me. With the waves violently tossing the boat, I could hardly hold onto the mooring line for fear of wrenching my shoulder. As the first diver neared the bottom, the mooring line jerked and then went slack in my hand, breaking between me and the diver below. He started to swim into the current, and I stayed within sight of him as I held the line, while the other divers, guided by Will's flashlight, made it to the reef. We completed our dive together, and when we ascended at the end, Will deployed his SMB on the safety stop. When we surfaced, the boat was nowhere in sight. Will looked around, asked if anyone could see the boat, and started blowing his whistle. My buddy had a larger SMB and inflated it, and a third diver added her pink SMB. After drifting for several minutes, we finally saw a speck in the distance heading towards us. Apparently, the boat crew lost their point of reference when the mooring buoy gave way. I don't know who was more relieved when they approached, us or the boat crew.

By day three, my buddy and I decided we needed a break from the rough seas and skipped the first dive, but conditions improved, so we joined the late morning dive. With only five feet of visibility on the sandy bottom, Will pinpointed precisely where to find a pair of dendritic jawfish with heads as big as my fist. One had a cluster of eggs in its mouth. Will left my buddy and me to photograph the shy fish; thinking ahead, I set my compass to the direction Will went so we could get back to the reef.

A group called Reef Guardians is tasked with protecting the marine reserve SIMCA. From June through September, guests can sign up for turtle conservation events. One day, a green sea turtle crawled onto the beach to lay 112 eggs. Once she returned to the sea, Reef Guardians dug up the eggs, buried them in a protected turtle garden, and eventually released them after they hatched. Guests can participate in these programs. The Guardians have a serious role and use fast boats to patrol the waters, assisted by marine police and army personnel. Despite their best efforts, fishing lines occasionally ensnared a few reefs; our guide would always remove them. More sinister, I frequently heard the sound of dynamite fishing when diving, especially as we traveled north. If it weren't for the presence of the Reef Guardians and the military, I have no doubt these precious reefs at Lankayan Island would quickly become rubble.

With improved seas, our boat ventured 10 minutes north to the Whale Shark Wreck, resting in 80 feet of water. As soon as we reached it, I was startled by a dynamite blast. The fish seemed hardly to notice. The wreck was draped with beautiful crinoids. Orange-spotted trevallies and spotted groupers chased clouds of silversides. A school of spadefish swam among us, and one curious individual followed me about. A zebra shark lying on the bottom took off when self-serving photographers ganged up on it. It headed right toward me, and given the choice of getting out of the way or snapping a photo, I snapped a picture. I heard dynamite blasts four more times on our dive.

Back on top, Wendy assured us the blasts were a long way away (my research found that a reef fishing dynamite blast could be heard underwater as far away as 12 miles). At Lankayan we saw no evidence of blasted reefs. In fact, the reefs were quite healthy and litter-free. But the fishing lines we found elsewhere may explain why this was one of the few sites where we saw big fish. With lots of fish activity and good visibility, this was my favorite dive.

We returned to the north to a reef with no mooring lines, as it was located near a shipping lane. With 60-foot visibility, I got excited when I could see the reef top 30 feet below the surface. After heading down 90 feet to the sand, we worked our way up to the top of the coral-covered mesa (and more dynamite blasts). I loved the huge plate and table corals, and large stands of staghorn coral where fish played hide and seek with my camera. But what I saw next shocked me: dead fish lying among the staghorn coral. The more I looked, the more I found, including fusiliers and a whitebelly damsel. Will, clearly depressed, held his head between his hands while other divers found more lifeless fish. Again, another dynamite blast from afar. I tried to keep tears from welling up in my eyes, without success. Still, the undamaged reef was alive with large schools of fish. Apparently, the dead fish were bycatch from a fishing boat, fish deemed useless, and were culled and dumped before reaching shore.

My buddy and I skipped a couple of boat dives for shore dives, first visiting the artificial reefs on the deeper side of the dock, where I found great macro creatures like starry blennies, flathead triplefins, and large nudibranchs. On another day, I made a 2-hour dive on the shallow side of the dive center, where the sand met surprisingly healthy corals. I saw numerous gobies and blennies that we hadn't seen on our previous boat dives. It's a great area for snorkelers, and I wished we had more time to dive the shoreline.

One can walk around Lankayan Island in about 30 minutes. Not far from our chalet, two friendly soldiers manned a gun turret. A dozen guards, always quick with a smile, patrolled the island, frequently jogging on the beach. The U.S. State Department site advises caution in this part of Malaysia due to a slight risk of kidnapping and piracy. The memories of the Sipadan diver kidnappings (see Undercurrent July) still linger.

My traveling companions and I always had high spirits when we sat down to dinner. With only 18 people in the hotel (the others a mix of Europeans and Australians), we were served family-style, beginning with a bowl of noodle, vegetable, or pumpkin soup. Then came plates loaded with rice or noodles, sometimes accompanied by spring rolls or potato wedges. This was followed by steaming platters of roast chicken, fried shrimp, and lamb chops with mint sauce, or perhaps curried fish or beef filet, accompanied by sautéed vegetables. The meal concluded with fresh fruit and a small piece of cake. After a sauteed shrimp appetizer, roast beef, and fried fish were offered for lunch. In the afternoons, they put out warm snacks such as banana lumpia or fritters.

I hated leaving Lankayan Island Dive Resort, where I enjoyed luxurious accommodations, excellent service, and a comfortable central area with a restaurant and lounging areas. The million-dollar views from everywhere can't be surpassed. The resort's common areas are built over the water, where they catch the ocean breezes. The spacious dining area and lounge feature comfortable seating areas and decks all around, perfect for enjoying the views. And our return boat ride was very pleasant, on a new boat in calm March seas.

Unfortunately, nature and humankind didn't always show their best side during my stay, giving us February weather in March. When the weather cleared up, the diving was very pleasurable, with short boat rides, healthy corals, and a life-crowded, colorful scene, especially on top of the reefs where they received more sunlight and colorful reef fish were abundant.

While diving may be a notch below other resorts in Indonesia and Malaysia, the resort's beauty, the staff's professionalism, and the value for the dollar certainly make up for it. But those underwater dynamite blasts, fishing lines, and dead fish awash between corals were at times too much to bear. It raised my awareness about how burgeoning poor populations must depend on the sea for their protein. It made me appreciate the resort's efforts to protect this small outpost of healthy corals and sea turtles and to encourage other divers to visit. And it drove me to select other destinations in the future where I can marvel at the untouched diving that remains, knowing it too is under siege, and that we may be the last generation to witness pristine reefs.

-- KMJ

Our undercover diver's bio: "I began diving in 1991 while stationed at Andersen AFB, Guam, and my first dive trips were to Palau and Truk. Following Guam, I was fortunate to be stationed in Florida and Turkey where I was able to continue diving. I have made more than 3,000 dives in Florida and all around the world, including the Philippines, Indonesia, the Revillagigedo Islands, the Sea of Cortez, and the Red Sea. My passion is collecting photos of fish I've never seen before, and enjoy using my photos to contribute to science."

DIVER'S COMPASS: We booked through Dive the World (one of the few companies that quotes prices for LIBR online.) They took care of ground transportation and booked a side trip to the nearby Sepilok nature reserves to see orangutans, sun bears, pygmy elephants, and crocodiles. Six nights for all water activities, food, transfers, and lodging were $1781 per diver . . . . . The resort lacks Nitrox and large tanks . . . Night dives are included on the house reef for no extra charge . . . . . They also have table tennis and a pool table. Ocean kayaks are available for paddling around the island . . . Rental gear is $38/day . . . Wine is $32 to $134 per bottle, soda is $2, Tiger beer $4, ice cream $2.25, and Pringles $2.75. Spirits are not available at Lankayan but can be purchased on the mainland or at your arrival airport...www.Dive-the-World.com