Caves, spots that crocs like, and crowds of clownfish.
This is about the half way mark of my trip. It’s about now the environment starts taking a toll on me. The antimalarials get to my stomach. The sandfly bites accumulate and flare. Cuts won’t heal.
I know from experience there’s more discomfort ahead, but I figure if I can nurse my body through then I can heal … next week.
I have a friend at home who used to have a poster on her wall that read something like … “Safety third behind looking good and having fun.” That’s pretty much our mantra for the day.
We start early when our boat pulls up to a ladder made from vines and wood. It’s hanging over the water and goes three metres up a vertical cliff into the jungle. It soon breaks so we have to clamber up a limestone face using whatever we can for handholds and try not to cut ourselves on all the jagged edges.
A short walk later and we’re at the mouth of a big cave full of bats. The entrance must be 20 metres tall and we’re probably the first ‘outsiders’ to visit this place.
I try counting the bats … one … two … one billion. There are so many, big and small, and they’re making an incredible noise as they’re disturbed by our lights. We look down and the floor is a writhing carpet of every sort of creepy crawly imaginable, feeding on the guano. Indiana Jones would’ve totally freaked.
The trip back to the boat isn’t as perilous and we’re quickly at the entrance of cave number two. The only way in is to snorkel or dive a long channel that leads into the darkness. So we do, with nothing but dive lights between us and oblivion.
We have a plan and we’re sticking to it: stay together and be safe.
We reach the end of the second of three chambers and we’re in a room full of stalactites and stalagmites. They’re huge and they’re pristine and who knows if anyone has been here before. The only things that can see in here are the bats.
Two of the group disappear underwater and through a hole to go explore another chamber for twenty minutes. And three more decide they’re cold and head back.
So much for the plan.
Lynn and I snorkel to the end of the third chamber and the rock formations are all crystalline brilliance and breathtaking. We’re in nature’s cathedral and its scary and its humbling and its exhilarating.
On our way home from the caves we stop to snorkel and dive ‘Devil’s Elbow’, so named because of the speed at which the tidal current runs through the bend in the narrow neck separating two huge bays. And maybe because crocodiles come here to feed on the mackerel.
The reef we dive is vibrant and crowded with clown fish. Nemo would’ve been just as happy not to be found if he’d ended up here.
At night we watch the stars and satellites in a pitch black sky and when we flip over the water is full of underwater fireflies – a group of ‘something we don’t knows’ that flash silver in the dark.
Source: LinkedIn | Greg Johannes
Photo: Greg Johannes
Past Entries:
About The Author: Greg Johannes, Ambassador – The SEA People. Greg spent 2 weeks aboard the Galaxea with us and documented his experience in his daily entries into ‘The SEA People Diaries’.
Day Six – Read here
Day Five – Read here
Day Four – Read here
Day Three – Read here
Day One and Two – Read here
Day Zero – Read here