There’s nothing wrong with enjoying looking at the surface of the ocean itself, except that when you finally see what goes on underwater, you realize that you’ve been missing the whole point of the ocean.
~Dave Barry
Drifting over the bare ocean floor, I dropped down to hover just above the sandy bottom. My eyes tightened into a mouthless smile as they met the protrusive, globular eye of a blue spotted stingray. I watched as the creature ruffled around, filtering through sand and broken bits of coral in search of something to eat. I couldn’t imagine a better start to a morning than this, twenty-three meters underwater hanging out with a stingray.
It was the second morning of the liveaboard dive trip that Vince and I had embarked on a couple nights earlier. We awoke this morning in the Surin Islands, and dropped into the Andaman Sea to explore a dive site called Southeast Rocks. As its name would suggest, the site was heavy on rocks and light on reef, but there was no shortage of amazing animals to be found.
In fact, shortly after leaving the blue spotted ray, we spotted another stingray hunkered down on the ocean floor. This one was a substantially larger, Jenkins’ Whipray, and I approached it with much more caution. I wouldn’t want to find myself on the business end of its stinging spine. The ray showed no signs of agitation as I inched towards it, but I still decided not to get as close to this one, and quickly backed away after filming a bit of video.
Now that we’d seen some neat creatures in the sand, it was time to head over to the eponymous rocks and start working on our goal for the dive, which was to find a school of bumphead parrotfish. But before we could start searching for them, Pi Ton (our divemaster) excitedly pointed out a bizarre animal that looked as though it was dancing through the water. I swam over just in time to capture some video of it landing on the side of a rock, and now that I was closer, I recognized it. I didn’t know what it was yet, just that it was one of “those frilly things that you see on rocks.” I’d always thought of them as some sort of soft coral, but clearly I’d been wrong because this thing was just swimming right in front of my eyes. After the dive, I learned that these are feather stars, which are crinoids related to sea stars and brittle stars.
This fascinating discovery made me temporarily forget about looking for parrotfish, but soon Pi Ton pointed upwards at the rocks where about ten large fish had come into view. Bumpheads (or humpheads) are the largest parrotfish, and are easily distinguished by their protrusive foreheads which males use to fight each other. Awestruck, we watched the school swim away from the rocks until they dissolved into the hazy distance.
When the parrotfish were gone, it was time to return to the surface where our boat’s dive dinghy was waiting for us. The MV Andaman was also close, so the dinghy’s captain tossed us a tow line and pulled us back to the boat rather than making us go through the extra effort of climbing into the dinghy with all of our heavy gear.
When we arrived on the MV Andaman, we shed our gear, then went up to the main deck to hydrate, fill out our dive logs, and await our next dive. A couple of hours later, we got back into the water at a site called Blacktip Rock. This was another rocky site, but this time cool creatures were harder to come by. The best finds of the dive were a pair of little squids, and a bunch of huge lobsters that were hiding in little crevasses in the rocks.
Towards the end of the dive, we also encountered a large school of fusiliers, who engulfed us in a kaleidoscope of bright yellow and blue scales.
After that somewhat underwhelming dive, I was eager to get back to the MV Andaman because we were scheduled to have island time during this next surface interval. After lunch, a boat arrived to take us to North Surin Island for a bit of exploring. Only a handful of the Andaman’s divers decided to go since most of them were on back-to-back trips and had already visited the island a few days ago. The little boat carried those of us who had opted to join through a channel that ran between North and South Surin. Turquoise water lapped against the shores of remote, rock-dappled beaches, and I couldn’t wait to get out and explore the island.
After about ten minutes, the boat dropped us off at a sandy, sun-soaked beach in Chong Khad Bay. I clambered onto shore with the rest of the divers, and stepped barefoot into the hot sand. All of our shoes had been stowed away in a storage bin at the beginning of our voyage, not to be seen until we arrived back on the mainland. That meant we’d be walking around the island the old fashioned way, just like nature intended.
And Vince and I had no plans of staying on the beach. Nay and Caitlin, some of our new friends from the liveaboard, had already visited North Surin a few days ago, and they told us that they’d seen pigtail macaques in the forest. So we set out along a forested trail with Zach and Ally to see if we could find any monkeys. Hiking through the jungle barefoot was a bit tricky, and eventually Ally decided to go back to the beach, but Vince, Zach and I continued onward, crossing sketchy wooden boardwalks and ducking underneath little caves under the shade of the forest canopy. Every so often, we paused to listen for any signs of wildlife, and eventually we came to a stop at a wild beach full of tide-worn boulders.
We were the only people in sight, and for a moment I envisioned us stranded on a deserted island, searching for any means of survival. The daydream passed when I noticed a trail of tiny handprints in the sand. The macaques had been here recently. I showed the prints to the guys and we all stopped talking and scanned the nearby trees for any signs of them, but the only movement was a gentle breeze filtering through their leaves. The monkeys had seemingly moved on, and it was time for us to follow suit because we’d already used up half of our allotted island time.
Retracing our steps as quickly as we could, we made our way back to the bay where we met back up with Ally. The first thing she said was, “I found a lemur, do you guys want to see?”
A lemur? I thought that lemurs were only found in Madagascar, so I was a little confused, but whatever it was it had to be cool. The three of us followed Ally over to a large sign that explained that the island is home to flying lemurs, which can’t actually fly, and aren’t technically lemurs. They are colugos, and they have membranes of skin between their front and back limbs that allow them to glide from tree to tree. This functions just like flying squirrels, but colugos are more closely related to primates.
Ally pointed upwards at a tree that stood just behind the sign. High on its trunk clung a so-called-lemur, as though it was employed to hang out by the sign so tourists could see it. At this moment, I realized we should have stayed closer to the beach for wildlife viewing after all.
The flying lemur graciously posed for our pictures until it was really time to head back to the water to meet the boat. Just as we turned to head over to the shore, we noticed a second flying lemur, high up in another tree. As soon as we spotted it, the animal took a flying leap, displaying a large wingspan (skinspan?) as it effortlessly glided over to another treetop. My jaw hung open in shocked amazement. It was cool enough to get to see an animal that I’d never heard of before, and more than I could have reasonably asked for to get to watch it “fly.”
Vince and I talked excitedly about the lemurs all the way back to the MV Andaman, where it was time for our third and final dive briefing of the day. This would be a simple reef dive at a site called Wifi Bay. Nay, Zach, Vince and I follwed Pi Ton down to the dive deck and started gearing up, but a commotion drew our attention over to the dive platform. A handful of crew members and divers were pointing down at the water with worried looks on their faces, and when I went over to investigate, I saw exactly what the problem was. The surface of the water was covered in huge mats of jellyfish. There had to be thousands of them, all blocking our entrance into the water, and presumably infesting the shallow dive site.
Nay took one look at the gelatinous mass and said, “I’m out, I don’t do jellyfish.”
I turned to Pi Ton and asked, “Does this kind sting?”
He nodded in response, but said we could still take the dinghy over to the dive site and see if there was clear spot to drop in. Vince, Zach and I saw no problem with that, so we grabbed the rest of our gear and boarded the dinghy. As luck would have it, the water above the dive site was mostly clear of jellies, so we decided to go ahead with the dive. However, when we descended down to the reef, we found that the water was about as clear as mud. All of the reefs beautiful colors and details were enveloped in a foggy haze, making it impossible to see anything outside of a five foot radius.
There was no sense in ending the dive now that we were already down there though, so we spent an hour drifting over the reef, and not really seeing anything major. The most exciting part of the dive was when I swam right into one of the transparent jellyfish and stung right on my cheek. It freaked me out for a minute, because I didn’t know what kind of jellies they were, but the only effect seemed to be minor, localized pain that subsided fairly quickly. After that, I felt reassured that they must not be irukandjis, and I wasn’t going to die.
Over the rest of the dive, I filmed a bit of video. I didn’t think any of it would turn out very well, but I wanted to have a few shots to include in my YouTube video about the trip. When I was going through the footage later, I noticed that it looked a lot better than I was expecting. Normally dives look far better in real life than they do on my GoPro footage, but in this instance, the GoPro footage looked better than real life.
After the dive was over, we all agreed that this was the worst one of the trip, but we quickly learned that we’d had it easy. When the group that dropped in after us returned to the dive deck, they told us that they’d surfaced in one of the hoards of jellyfish, and been stung all over. I definitely didn’t envy them, one sting was more than enough.
Now that we were done diving for the day, I took a shower and changed into real clothes before heading up to the top deck to hang out with everyone. It was our last evening aboard the MV Andaman, so the crew was busy preparing a special barbecue dinner to celebrate the trip. Smoky smells of meat on the grill wafted around us, and we played a few rounds of Heads Up! as the sun dipped towards the horizon.
After sunset, dinner was ready. Everyone gathered on the top deck for the feast, and applauded the crew for all their hard work over the course of our voyage. The meal was fantastic, and several of us stayed up later to play some more games from the boat’s box of board games. We got into some intense rounds of Spot It! before finally calling it a night and going to bed.
The next morning was one I’d been anticipating for months. This was the day we would get to dive Richelieu Rock, which is reputedly the best dive site in Thailand. This was the single thing that had drawn me and Vince to Southern Thailand. Everything else we’d done along the way was amazing, but this was the Holy Grail of the trip.
Wake up call was before sunrise, and I stepped onto the main deck to find pastel skies, and lots of other boats nearby. They were all here for the same reason we were. Richelieu Rock is the only pinnacle between the Surin Islands and the mainland. It’s also surrounded by strong currents. These two factors combined attract an unparalleled amount of biodiversity to the site. The reef provides shelter for small creatures, which in turn creates a bottomless food source for the bigger pelagic species who love congregating in strong currents and upswells. The result is a paradise for both fish and divers alike, and I couldn’t wait to get in the water and experience it.
Adrenaline built in my veins as we went through our briefing, geared up on the dive deck, and boarded the dinghy. When it was finally time, I rolled backward off of the dinghy, briefly submerging beneath the surface before popping back up and giving a quick “okay” sign. When all five of us were ready, we let the air out of our BCD’s, and began sinking into the blue depths of the sea. Before we even reached our bottom depth, it was clear that Richelieu Rock lives up to its reputation. So many fish schooled around the pinnacles that It was difficult to decide where to look. In one direction, a huge school of barracudas moved in an arch pattern, and in the other direction, jacks whizzed passed us.
Then there was the reef. Anemones clinging to rock swayed with the current, each one hiding its own pair of anemone fish. Meanwhile, glassfish darted around, moving in groups that seemed like one big organism rather than thousands of tiny individuals. The reef was covered in lace-like pink and purple soft corals, and massive gorgonians that swayed dreamily with the water. It was one of the most frenetic and vibrant displays of life that I’ve ever seen.
As we explored the reef, it revealed more incredible creatures like tomato clownfish, huge morays, and a white eyed eel. But I stopped in my tracks when my eyes landed on the bulbous shape of an octopus tucked in between a few soft corals. The octopus’s colors and textures shifted until it eventually shot off away from the reef, and our prying eyes.
The last amazing find of the dive was a school of long-nosed emperors. This was a new species for me, and I couldn’t get over their strangely shaped, elongated faces.
All-too-soon, it was time to slowly return to the surface. We’d bottomed out around 27 meters on this dive, so we stayed at the shallow section of pinnacle for a few extra minutes, which gave us a bit more time to watch all of the fish schooling around the reef. Then we reluctantly returned to the surface, and rode back to the MV Andaman where we had breakfast, and waited out our surface interval.
A couple hours later, we were back in the water for the final dive of the trip. There were far more divers at the site now that it was later in the day, and we had to keep an eye out to not bump into anyone. But despite the crowd, it was still one of the best dives of my life.
This time we descended onto an area that was completely covered in anemones. Every inch of the reef was blanketed by tentacles, such that we could scarcely see the rocks that they clung to.
Once again, there was so much activity going on around us that it was borderline disorienting. Everything around us kept getting engulfed by schools of tiny fish. One second, I’d be looking at a gorgonian, and next the fan would disappear behind a teeming wall of scales.
Of course, there were also more schools of jacks, emperors, and barracudas. We spent a lot of the dive floating out in open water and just watching the schools of fish swim around us.
Floating there, I felt an all-encompassing contentment. There’s nothing quite like being totally surrounded by fish on a SCUBA dive. It’s so amazing to get to see the abundant life that exists just below the ocean’s surface.
I was sad when it was time to return to the surface since it meant that the diving portion of our trip was officially over. But even though saying goodbye to the sea and all of the friends we’d made on the MV Andaman was going to be hard, I was so happy that we’d tried liveaboard diving. I can’t think of a way I’d rather spend my days than exploring underwater, and it was a lot of fun to get wake up, dive all day, and then do it again the next day. It also felt freeing to be able to just focus on one thing for a while instead of rushing around to get to different points of interest. It forced me to slow down and enjoy the moment, and even relax a bit, which is not normally something I experience for very long on vacation.
As we sailed back to the mainland, we hung out with the other divers, singing along with music played from Ally’s phone, and basking in the shade of the top deck’s canopy. We arrived back at port, where we had to say goodbye to Ally as she was staying aboard for the next four days.
After that, we took the neon-lighted party bus back to Khao Lak, where we spent the evening hanging out at local bars with Caitlin, Zach, and Nay. At the end of the evening, we parted ways, and Vince and I went back to our hotel where we had to switch gears completely for the next leg of our journey. It was time to leave the coast behind and head inland. The next morning would find us driving to the most beautiful lake in Thailand, where we would spend a couple of days kayaking and searching for some of the country’s elusive wildlife.
You can find more details of this amazing destination on my YouTube channel!
