Know your relatives....where's me mum??

Where's me mum? Errrr.....your mum? My mind seemed to draw a blank, as I looked into the accusing eyes of the girl beside me.....




The flight from Gatwick Airport to Marsa Alam took about 6 hours. I had been to the Red Sea a couple of times before, but we had traditionally flown to Hurghada in the north. Flying to Marsa Alam meant that we did not have to sail for 30 hours down the coast of the Egyptian desert, to get to the south. That is a blessing in itself, as I am usually the "champion puker" of the dive group; the legacy of being a poor sailor. The marina was only a short drive from the airport. Pretty soon, we were boarding our dive boat. It was called Hurricane ( owned by Tony Backhurst Scuba), and was by far the most luxurious dive boat that I had ever been on. We sailed from Marsa Alam to Elphinstone. From there, we headed south to Daedalus Reef, Rocky Island and Zabargad. This was what they called the Deep South, and we were only about 50 km from the Sudanese Red Sea.

m.v. Hurricane. Very luxurious dive boat.


We had a big group on this trip. There were 22 divers altogether. As I had only joined the dive club, I did not know most of the members on the boat. Therefore, I approached the leader of the group, and briefed him about my diving experience. I had wanted him to pair me up with a suitable buddy. I was disappointed therefore when his response was, " Oh! We usually just dive in a group. Just feel free to tag along." I later discovered that the rest of the group had naturally paired up themselves up as they knew each other well. The next morning at dive briefing, I turned to a couple of guys nearest to me and asked if they mind me tagging along. One guy was tall and thin, while the other was huge and fat. "Sure, no problems", they replied. So, that was settled.

Tunas lining up.


During the first 2 days, I began to realise that my "buddies" seemed to disappear to the surface without letting me know, halfway into the dives. I thought that was strange, but did not question them about it, as I was still diving with the rest of the group; although I was practically diving alone. The other strange thing was that the divemaster who was suppose to lead the dive was always at about 50 metres depth or so. He was diving with a Buddy Inspiration and therefore could go deeper for longer. I did not mind diving "alone" as I was comfortable with my own diving. It was no big deal. I thought this would be the pattern for the rest of the week. However, after the dive briefing the next morning, the divemaster suddenly turned to me and asked me who was my buddy, and why was I diving alone over the last 2 days. I saw no point in telling him that the guys just buggered off and left me each time. So, I just pointed lamely in their directions.

Daedalus Lighthouse (Girls beware, the guards usually haven't seen women for 3 months....so a bit randy!!)


The first dive that day was to a depth of 30 metres. As we got into the Zodiac, I noticed that the tall thin chap was not getting into it. So, I turned to the fat bloke and asked him, " Where's Jason?". He replied " Oh! He is doing a specialty course today." So, I said, " So, who are you diving with today?" "You", he said. So, very cautiously, I said, " OK...so, we are going down to 30 metres as planned, right?" He replied, as if it was the most naturally thing in the world, " No, I can't get down there because I use a lot of air. I only want to dive to 15 metres." . I thought, "*&%$£*£% great!! Now, I have a fat arsed gas guzzler on my hands who is not going to follow the dive plan! My disaster alarm went off. " Luckily, another chap also said that he was not going to 30 metres and he would not mind diving with my buddy. I turned to the remaining 3 divers on the boat. There was a guy in his late forties / early fifties, a lady of similar age and a girl of about seventeen. So, I turned to the lady who was sitting next to me and agreed that she would buddy up with me. The four of us would be sticking to the dive brief.

As soon as we did a backward roll into the water, my buddy started to panic and hyperventilate. I thought, " Mamma mia, what now??" We were on the surface for about 10 minutes, while she tried to calm down. I peered into the water, and I could see the divemaster at the bottom signalling for us to get down. Eventually, my buddy agreed to descend, and so we all went down together. Unfortunately, she kept going and did not stop at 30 meters. I had to swim to her and pulled her up to the right depth. After I had made sure that she was alright, I looked around, and holy shit!! The other buddy pair had gone too deep as well. I signalled to my buddy to wait for me and went down to get the others up as well. Just when I thought that all was well, I looked around and realised that my buddy was missing. The divemaster was watching us from about 20 metres away. So, I signalled to him to ask him the whereabouts of my buddy. He pointed to the surface, and as I looked up, I could see that she was just beside the boat. She must have panicked again, and shot up to the top. He signalled that we should continued with the dive. Yet again, the divemasater went down deep to do his own thing. After about 30 minutes, the girl's air level was getting low, and so I decided to end the dive.

As soon as we broke the surface, she asked me " Where's me mum?" It took me a while before I realised that she was referring to my buddy. " "She has ummm......gone up",I replied. The fat bloke, who was already in the boat, immediately said, " You should have gone up with her". What a patronising prick!! He did not even bother to ascertain the facts. My response was that the divemaster had instructed us to dive on. From the point of the general diving rule where one has to "stay with his or her buddy", I would agree with him. However, there were a few factors that guided me that few seconds in deciding what to do. Firstly, my buddy was already up at the surface, and was being picked up. Secondly, in that situation, I also had the other 2 as my "buddies", whom I rapidly realised, were not very experience divers. Thirdly, as mentioned before; the divemaster had also instructed me to dive on. Finally, by the time that I get up to the surface, the boat cover would have moved on to pick up other divers as per the dive plan. This would have meant that I would be floating on the surface for a while before I get spotted again, and therefore increased the chance of me being swept away.

The joke of the day, however, was that when the fat guy and his buddy reached their own "15 metres dive plan", there was no reef to be seen, and they had to descend to 30 mteres!!! Ha ! Ha! Ha! Theirs was a very short dive indeed! Stupid arse!!

Oceanic White Tip Shark (4th. most dangerous shark?)


Lessons that I learnt from this are 1) Make sure that you have a good idea of your buddy's dive experience before a dive. Asked them direct questions if you have to. The fat bloke was a gas guzzler, and therefore all his dives were very short compared to the rest of the group. This explained why, they always disappeared so early. 2) It is unwise to switch to a new buddy minutes before you hit the water; because of Rule No. 1. I later found out that the 3 person that I dived with were husband, wife and daughter. What luck!!! Urrggggh! Head bang!! To the credit of father and daughter, they kept their cool and kept on diving. Could have turned ugly underwater. Also, I found out later that they had just done their Advance Open Water recently, and each had less than 30 dives under their belt. This was their first sea trip. 3) Diving in "buddy pairs" of more than 2 divers may not always be a good idea, especially if the sea condition is rough, or when things go wrong. I also did not know beforehand that my buddy also had a panic attack the day before and had to abort her dive; again at the surface.

One under my crotch...had to lift my legs apart for this shot.
Felt a bit vulnerable......phew!!




The most important thing is that you always have to be self- reliant, and that can only come with experience. I did not allow the above experience to spoil my trip. For the remainder days, I seek out more experienced divers in the group and had a smashing time.


More tunas



Rocky Island



Life is an uphill struggle......but, hey! Count me in!!

Breathless.....Gasping for More...Errr!

If you think this is going to be a graphic description of some kind of sexual act........ perish your carnal thots!! Ha! Ha! ....suspen aje...



The sea was calm that morning at Pulau Redang. We head out in the dive boat in anticipation of another great dive. It was the first dive of the day. The divemaster had told us that it was going to be a deep dive, and that we were going down to 30 metres. No problem man!! Sap sap sui (in Cantonese)! I was used to doing deep dives. My deepest was down to 50 metres on the wreck ( name seemed to escape me at the moment...) near Oban in Scotland; where I was............never mind, that is another story.....!

My buddy for that dive was a Singaporean chap.. He was by now a French citizen from Nice. He was working for a computer company and was being seconded back to Singapore for a couple of years. We did our usual buddy checks, and was raring to go. As soon as the divemaster gave us the signal, we did our backward rolls from the boat and glided smoothly down toward the pre-determined depth. Plan the dive, and dive the plan!! That is one of PADI's mantras. The visibility was not as good as it had previously been. It was only about 15-20m. This must have been because of the storm overnight which had churned the sea up a little. Nevertheless, there were still plenty to see, and I was settling into the dive nicely. I turned to look, and my buddy was about 5 metres away from me looking under a rock.

Fifteen minutes into the dive and what the ..........(fill in your own obscenities)....!!!!! My regulator was almost yanked out of my mouth!! I thought, " What the hell is happening??". I turned to discover that my buddy was trying to pull it from me. Chee sin!!! Instinctively, I pushed him away and quickly assessed the situation. His own regulator was missing from his mouth!! My diver training immediately kicked into motion, and I quickly reached for my alternate regulator and shoved it into his mouth and purged it for him. He was in a right state of panic and kept gesturing that he wanted to surface. I had to calm him down immediately. Whack! I hit him straight on the head. It did the trick and he jolted out of his panic. On examining his regulator, I found that his mouthpiece had fallen off. His alternate regulator however, was working fine. So, as he was fast depleting my own air supply, I quickly switch him back to his own alternate regulator. After a further few minutes of swimming around, I decide that it was time to get up. After signalling to the divemaster, I deployed my delayed surface marker buoy, to alert the boatman, and slowly ascend to the top with my buddy. He was indeed, very grateful that day.

Moral of the story is that, it is better to have you own kit when diving, and make sure that it has been serviced regularly. My buddy rented his from the dive shop. As it was nearing the end of the season that year, the equipments were also getting worn out.

Another PADI mantra, if you encounter problems....STOP....BREATHE....THINK......ACT........! Happy Diving!

Princess Elly

Yeah…..I call my little girl Princess. Who doesn’t??? She loves that I call her that . In fact she loves everything about Princesses….Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White …etc. Oh yes, her favourite is Snow White; she even has a SW costume that she wears to her never ending ( and costly!!) friends’ 3 years old birthday parties. So, I ask her,

Papa : Do you know why you are called Princess?

Elly: Why, papa?

Papa: Because your papa is King………..Ha! Ha! Ha!

Sorry…I love my own crap jokes. Luckily, my little girl loves my jokes too. She has a wicked sense of humour, you see.

I could still remember the day she was born. On my part, there was no overwhelming rush of emotions that you always read about when some one is recounting their experience at childbirth. I always thought that that is such a stereotypical response, and probably as a result of reading too many mushy women’s magazines.Bor-rriinnng!!. Instead, I breathed a sigh of relief and a silent prayer of thanks that to the Almighty that my little girl had arrived safely. Yes, we knew the sex of our baby from the ultrasound scans during my wife’s pregnancy. I see no point in not knowing. It certainly makes the exercise of deciding her name and buying her clothes much easier.

So, Elly it is. I decided on that name when I was reading an article about a brilliant consultant neurologist in London who is also a great musician. And before you start thinking that that is also what I aspire for my little girl, let me just stop you right there. To me, it was just a nice sound to that name, and more importantly, it is also short and uncomplicated. It should make her life easy in later life when she has to fill in all the forms. When I’m asked what her name is, I always say that it is Elly with a “y”, and not an “ie”. This is because Ellie is the short form of Eleanor, and that would not do, as it sounded so dated, so Pride and Prejudice, if you know what I mean.

Having said all that, I would not blame you if you are beginning to think that I am a boring old fart with no feelings for anything romantic. Far from it; I have always felt a deep bond with my little girl right from the start. For example, during the first night when we brought her back, she would calm down immediately as I held her and sang to her, “Titis embun…berjatuhan, malam sepi….tak berteman…..”; (heck, where did that come from??)....the song just floated from deep within the recesses of my memories. I didn’t even remember learning this song…it must have just seeped into my being from all those years ago as I grew up in Malaysia. The tune just lulled her back to sleep. We seemed to be able to communicate from the very beginning. I knew and understand her every cry and grunt. ( Wah…boasting only ah..ha..ha) Quite often, I would tell my wife what the problem was.

There were also other special moments that we shared together. Just this morning, she wanted me to paint her finger and toenails for her. A few weeks ago, as I was helping her to the potty for a wee wee , she suddenly said, “ I love you, papa”. Words just can’t describe how I felt (ok…ok…there might have been a tear welling up, and the throat was tight like I was experiencing an anaphylactic attack.....damn, where's my Epipen!!!) There are also times when she would come to me with something that she knew her mummy would not approve of. She would whisper into my ears and then said its our secret ( or “sikriiiitt” as she would pronounced it). We are now into making deals and shaking our hands on it. Little girl’s honour……….and once she shook her hands on it, she would keep her side of the bargain. I would also always treasure her look as she waves to me from the window of our lounge as I reverse my car out of the driveway to work each day. It sustains me through a busy day at work. She also never ceases to amaze me. I would discover something new about her every single day when she was a baby. From the time she was 12 months old, she knew how to operate the TV, video and DVD player. Her favourite programmes were Andy Pandy, Max and Ruby, Angelina Ballerina, Snow White, Cinderella and of late Mulan and Pocahontas.

Elly, with her toes painted.

During our recent trip to Malaysia, she had learnt how to play the card game “Uno”, from her cousins, Angeline and Ben. In fact, she then taught me how to play it herself. Not bad considering that the game is meant for an age target of 7+ and she is only 3 and very soon 4 years of age. She has also demonstrated her competitiveness through this game. She would insist on winning each time and would cry if she lost. Not wanting to spoil her and yet at the same time not wanting to break her spirit, I would allow her to have her cry; and when she has finished crying, I would encouraged her to try harder to win by using her brains; without making it any easier for her. Turn your tears into your strength, I would say.

So my little princess, I thank God each day for the little miracle that you are. You would always be your papa’s Numero Uno ( pun intended). It is a joy to see you grow. And yeah….can’t wait till the day that I can take you diving!

Pilgrimage to Layang-layang

When I was diving in Sipadan Island back in 1999, I had heard folks talking of the magic of diving in Layang-layang. One recurrent theme was that hammerheads were in abundance there. So much so that instead of spotting the sole member of this highly elusive shark, divers would frequently be treated to a "wallpaper of hammerheads" passing by during their dives. News like this had fired my imagination ever since. This was further reinforced when a very good friend and regular dive buddy of mine (Hi Stewart...hope you are well in Thailand), went to dive there a few years back and told me that the rumours were true.

It was therefore not if, but when I would make this trip myself. So, 2007 has to be it. The diving season and Chinese New Year period (when I would make my annual trip home to see my family in Malaysia) coincided nicely for the first time in years. This, with the increasing frequency of AirAsia flights(which only cost me a mere £65 return) to Kota Kinabalu(KK) from Kuala Lumpur made it possible. I had to stay overnight in KK, as the flight to Layang-layang was 7:30 the next morning. I stayed in Hotel Capital, which again cost me only about £15. However, to make it sweeter, there was a discount of about RM1000 from my dive package for Malaysian divers. Hurrah!!! Who says there is no benefit from holding a Malaysian passport??!

I checked in nice and early the next day at the new KK airport, which was very nice. They had to weigh all our bags as well as the divers. This seemed a bit odd, but the reason soon became clear. It was the tiniest aircraft that I had ever flew in. There were no doors and cargo and passengers had to be loaded from the back. It could only carry a maximum of 12 passengers. We were soon airborne, and after an hour , we were touching down on the single airstrip on the island.














The formalities were quickly and efficiently dealt with, and yessssssssssss.......!! Time to hit the water. The following are just a few of the shots that I took during the week.

Healthy looking starfish. This seemed to be in abundance, and most commonly spotted starfish here.














A nudibranch. Someone called it the "dinosaur".















Corals forming on an isolated branch.















Soft Corals.















Basket Coral.















Turtle taking a Rest.















"Flying" Eagle Ray- I wanna be free!!















Divers in the deep - waiting for the Hammerheads. Alas....we were to be disappointed.














Group Photo (Courtesy of Lawrence Dodds)


Sunset at Layang-layang.















It was a great week diving here. Unfortunately, I did not get to see the hammerheads. Looking on the bright side however, this means that I will have to make another trip back here soon. Yipeee!! One thing I've got to say is that the welcome here was second to none, and all the staff were very efficient. Safety was on the top agenda for all the divemasters and I certainly felt very safe diving with them. Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh.........I can't wait to be back there!!!

I have arrived

YeeHaa! I have finally arrived in the 21st century. This is the very first weblog that I have set up for myself. You guys might be curious why this blog has been christened as the "Hammerhead's World". Well, this is just one man's quest in search of his elusive cousins. I have only had a fleeting glimpse of this very beautiful creature in the Southern Red Sea in October 2005 at about 50-60meters depth. But could this just be a figment of my imagination??!! By the time I fumbled for my underwater digital camera , and powered it up, it had slipped into the blue abyss. Arrrrggghh!! Even my recent trip to Layang-layang (otherwise known as "Hammerhead Mecca") in the South China Seas in March 2007, was not blessed with a visit from my relatives. Sigh! Never mind. This brave soul dives on in the hope that his dreams will one day be fulfilled. In the meantime, please join me in my journeys, and I will try to make it exciting for you.