Honeymoon Fight.

One of the things that we picked up, regrettably only halfway through our honeymoon here, is snorkeling. We had an hour lesson with a big Italian man who calls himself Victor, one of the few diving instructors who had given up his life a world away to come and live and work in paradise.

Victor showed us how to breathe through the snorkel with our mouths only, he showed us what to do when the snorkel fills up with water, and he tried to show us how to descend to about two metres with the snorkel to see what was going on in the sea floor beneath. By the end of it, Karen was maneuvering the waters like a mermaid ('You, excellent,' the Italian instructor beams) while I had all the grace of a dugong, a manatee, a sea-cow. ('You, good,' he condescends.)

An actual picture of me snorkeling

Since then, we have traded our 6 am early morning dips with 6 am early morning snorkeling. We took all of the first morning to locate all the coral reefs near our villa. We picked out one or two 'one-stop-shops' - coral reef teeming with all kinds of aquatic life, which gave you bang for your snorkeling buck.

It was an amazing experience, swimming with the fishes - we spotted schools of the colourless majorra, saw a few angel and butterfly fish, and swum past a few bored-looking aptly-named surgeonfish.  The zebra-striped bannerfish was a mainstay of the coral reefs, and the eerily luminescent adorned wrasse was an unforgettable sight, while we watched unicornfish (yup, horn on their heads) cautiously from a distance.

There were shoals of teardrop-like tiny ikan bilis (anchovy) sized fishes, and we marveled at a goatfish grazing furiously along the ocean floor. It was almost like having your own personal aquarium.

The adorned wrasse - or
the rainbow parrotfish

What we were deadly afraid of, however, were damaging the fragile corals that were the habitat of these creatures beneath. We could see the evidence of the clumsiness of previous tourists before us - there were large areas of coral reef graveyards surrounding the remaining reefs. One of the most frightening experiences was swimming - for what seemed like a lifetime - dangerously close above these coral forests as we tried to get to the other side, our bodies only about an elbow's length away from a very painful death (by a thousand scratches), both for us and the corals.

My other unspoken fear, however, was being touched by one of these scaly, slimy fishes, rubbing against my soft underbelly or flipping its fins softly against my cheek. *shudder*

To which my very sensible wife said - 'Hey, they don't even hit each other, lah! What makes you think they're going to hit you!' Which was a true fact - these fishes were at home in the ocean, and instinctively would leave this clumsy sea-cow very much alone.

What started getting to me, however, was the fact that Karen was getting to see more cool stuff than I was.

Lionfish

'Guess what I saw? A lionfish!'

or

'Eew, I saw a really big unicornfish! It was scary!' while her hands held out the size of the massive fish,

or

'Oh, man, I saw an eel just now! It was darting through the corals like a snake!'

Now, I must admit this. People might view me as an easygoing, good-natured, laidback kind of guy, but this, this, I couldn't let go of. How come she got to see all the cool stuff and I didn't? I was determined to see something extraordinary to report to her, and then I, Heng Khuen Cheok, would have won this silly little snorkeling game (that only existed in my head).

And so I stood up on my flippers, my snorkeled face looking for a distant coral reef, and there it was - a whole forest about ten metres to my right. I descended on the waters and swum towards the reef, kicking vigorously to chance upon something marvelous to report back to her.

The reef didn't offer up very much new, the ubiquitous bannerfish, the redtailed butterflyfish, the odd floor-dwelling grouper. But wait a minute, what do I see here? A few sixstripe soapfish which we have yet to see before!

Aha! Victory! I stood up, my flippers on the soft ocean sand, as I looked around for Karen to tell her about my discovery.

What? She was just swimming near me - when did she even get here?

She stands up, and I spit out the mouthpiece of my snorkel - 'Hey hon, guess what I just sa-'

'Honey, I saw a shark! It was swimming nearby! It was this big!'

Ah, damn it! She wins again, as I sit to the ocean floor in defeat, a very sulky snorkeler indeed.

Ah well, maybe I can win at eating fishes!

Farewell, Maldives.

It is our last night here in Maldives, and a squall is developing outside our villa hut. The rain lashes against our glass door and the wind whistles as she whips away everything in our sight. One of Karen's singlets that was drying on our balcony has already fallen victim to the winds.

It is a stark reminder that out here on our idyllic holiday, we are still subject to the wildness of God and nature - it is monsoon season here after all. The tempest came very suddenly, with little warning this evening, and it lasted for a good hour before completely venting its fury. We have been blessed with really good weather otherwise on this honeymoon.

It has been an amazing honeymoon. A time for restfulness, playfulness, silliness and exploration. Our holidays over the years often mean trips back to Malaysia and Singapore to gorge on food and catch up with friends, which we love to do, but being alone together on a holiday this time, away from the world has made for a rejuvenating trip, both individually and as a couple.

We have swum, kayaked, snorkeled with the fishes to our hearts content. We've had time to read, to reflect, to listen and to grow as a couple. We've also had time to develop a tan that teeters on the edge of a sunburn.

It's coming to an end, this honeymoon part of our trip. Soon we will trade the beach for the bustle, as we travel from the turquoise oceans of the Maldives to the sea of people and activity that is Hong Kong.

We are grateful, and we are ready.