‘No. That’s for both of us,’ he replies, as if I’m crazy.
Our fifty-dollar ride is a small boat with a wheelhouse and an open deck that is mostly taken up with smelly fishing nets. We hand over our bags into the safe keeping of our boat’s captain, whose name is Kiko, and we head over to a large warehouse on the dock to pick up supplies.
Inside the warehouse, it’s like a general store on a massive scale.
I browse the shelves while Ethan speaks with the manager. I overhear them discussing stocks of drinking water and canned and dried foods and fresh items and crates of local beer. Ethan is referring to a prepared list he has retrieved from his breast pocket. I hear him arranging for the same items to be delivered to us on a weekly basis – cash on delivery.
It’s a similar arrangement to what we’d had on Koh Phi Tao.
I pick up a tube of toothpaste and a tub of sunscreen and a couple of bottles of wine and then spot various items of watersports equipment. I choose a facemask and a snorkel and fins in my size and take everything over to pay. Ethan is still busy organising.
We are taking our first week of supplies with us and they are brought over to the boat in wheelbarrows by three small barefooted men. Ethan tips each of them generously and they wave us off like we are old friends. Then we head off under blue skies and calm seas into the open water to our island paradise.
Only very soon, the sea becomes quite rough, and I realise I forgot to pick up some seasickness tablets. So, within half an hour, I’m ‘feeding the fish’ over the side. To make me feel worse, Ethan and Kiko are now tucking into a big bag of something that looks and smells like beef jerky. When it’s clear I’ve finished hurling my breakfast, and I’m sitting on my backpack with my head between my knees, Ethan comes over to me with a bottle of water and gives me a compassionate hug. Then he kindly distracts me from my misery by pointing out all the islands on the horizon line along our route.
‘This area is known as the Coral Triangle. It’s an archipelago of islands and atolls that are part of the Malaysian coastal shelf. In the past, parts of the reef here have been decimated by dynamite fishing. But in the last ten years, it’s been designated a conservation area and thanks to the concerted efforts of GGF marine biologists, it’s all now starting to recover.’
‘I did a bit of research on the Goldman Global Foundation,’ I tell him. ‘I think the conservation work they do all around the world is incredible. I read that the foundation not only supports this marine park but it fully funds the artificial reef system we will be building at Reef Island. I’m so thrilled to be involved. I really am!’
Ethan seems pleased by my enthusiasm. ‘Aye, and the work we’ll do will hopefully keep the GGF shareholders allocating funding to this part of the world for another year.’
Ethan suddenly stops talking and stands up to gaze out into the sea.
Something has caught his eye. I catch my breath. Is it dolphins?
Oh, please let it be dolphins!
‘Look, out there, at all those birds circling a fish boil. Do you see it?’
I peer through my sunglasses across the watery vista wishing I had invested in polaroid glasses.
‘Hey, Kiko, do you see that?’ Ethan yells into the wheelhouse.
The next thing I know, our boat is accelerating towards what I can now see is a bubbling commotion in the sea, over which hundreds of seabirds are in a flying frenzy.
‘What is it? I don’t understand? What is the significance of a fish boil?’ I ask.
Ethan is pulling out his snorkel gear. ‘Lori, get your mask and snorkel and fins on quickly!’
We soon arrive at the area and ‘a fish boil’ is a good description.
There are masses of fish leaping up at the surface.
The water quite literally looks like it is boiling.
‘It’s tuna. They’re being driven to the surface by something from beneath and that something, if I’m right, is a whale shark!’
‘And we’re going to swim with a shark?’ I gasp, thinking he’s gone completely mad.
‘No. It’s called a whale shark but it’s actually a fish. This is a fantastic and rare opportunity to swim with the biggest fish in the sea – so get ready. When I say go, in we go!’
My heart is banging against my ribs and I’m shaking with nerves and excitement as I pull off my dress and put on my gear. I don’t have my swimsuit on under my dress but I’m guessing that my matching bra and knickers are more or less the same thing anyway. The captain steers the boat in a big circle around the boil which is getting bigger and more active by the second – it looks like an active underwater volcano erupting – and I’m sitting on the side ready to jump in on Ethan’s signal. He must be crazy and I must be completely mad.
But I’m excited. Then something totally mind-blowing happens.
First there is a glimpse of a giant fin, then a great blue-grey and white-speckled bulk bursts through the middle of the leaping tuna, before disappearing again into the depths.
‘Go!’ yells Ethan and I take a leap of faith and follow him over the side.
The sea is warm and silky on my skin. I take a deep gulp of air from the surface and swim down beneath the waves. Through my mask, I can clearly see the whale shark just a few metres away from us. I try to dive deeper, kicking my legs and pushing the water aside with my arms to follow the whale shark and Ethan, who is swimming effortlessly alongside this beautiful huge and gentle creature. My head is spinning with excitement.
I’m swimming in the open sea with the biggest fish in the world!
The whale shark glides effortlessly away and disappears into the blue as Ethan and I surface together. We pull off our masks and take out our snorkels and we are laughing.
I realise I’m trembling. Ethan takes my face in his hand and plants kisses on my face.
Is every day with this man going to be one great adventure?
Back on the boat, all thoughts of seasickness are forgotten and I’m chewing beef jerky too, and we are chatting enthusiastically about what just happened and guessing how long the whale shark was. A short while later, it’s like we’ve finally reached the end of the world and we see our island in the distance. A tiny green oasis in a vast blue sea and our home for a while at least. Our captain carefully negotiates the reef until we are in the shallows of the lagoon and we can wade ashore. I see the beach and its white sand and how pristine it all is except for a few driftwood sun-bleached logs that have been washed up there. I’m looking to see who else is there … but there is no one else. No welcome party. No sign of life.
Well, that’s not quite true. I see a huge iguana sitting on one of the logs.
I look to Ethan. He’s already hauling our supplies ashore.
He’s whistling happily to himself. I pick up a few of the smaller boxes to give him a hand.
‘So … what do you think?’ he asks me, putting a box of bottled drinking water down on the sand and opening his arms wide as if he was about to burst into song.
‘Well, I think it’s stunningly beautiful. But I had thought there might be other people here?’
Really?’ He scratches his head. ‘I don’t remember saying there would be?’
‘Well, you didn’t say there wouldn’t. I suppose, I just thought, if this was an important conservation project being funded by the GGF then there would be a whole team of people here to help with the important conservation work?’
He casts his gaze over the dazzling bright tropical scene. ‘Nope, it’s just us here.’
I can hardly believe it. I’d purposefully not asked him too many questions about coming here, even though my mind was full of them, as Ethan had quipped to Jenny yesterday about how many questions I asked and I’d felt rather reprimanded. But now my mind is a scramble of thoughts about just the two of us living here like castaways and whether that would be a good or a bad thing?
‘So, if I hadn’t come along, you’d have been on your own over Christmas and New Year?’
He shrugs. ‘Well, I�
�m sure it would’ve got a bit lonely after a while.’
With our belongings ashore, we stand together on the beach watching Kiko leave.
Ethan takes my hand firmly in his and gives it a squeeze. ‘Don’t worry, we do have supplies.’
I start to walk up the beach to where I assume our camp might be – just set back from the trees, in the shade. Ethan follows me carrying our bags and his guitar case.
But the only building I come across is a small dilapidated looking hut.
One, tiny, wreck of a hut with half a roof and holes in the floor and gaps for windows.
‘Home sweet home!’ Ethan enthuses, putting down the bags.
I stand in the ferocious heat of the day wanting to panic but knowing it’s far too late.
As our only way off this island is now just a blip on the horizon.
‘Is that it?’ I exclaim. ‘I mean, where is the kitchen?’
Then, realising I sound like a housewife rather than a scientist, I quickly correct myself.
‘I mean, where is the research facility?’
Ethan shrugs and I plop myself down under the shade of a palm tree and almost get killed by a falling coconut. I jump out my skin. It hits the ground a few feet away from me.
‘Phew, that was a close one!’ Ethan remarks, looking concerned for the first time since we arrived here on castaway cay – which is what I’ve now decided to call this place.
Ethan picks up the coconut. ‘Do you know that one hundred and fifty people a year are killed by falling coconuts. That’s fifteen times more than people killed by sharks.’
Then he takes out his machete, which of course he keeps in his canvass bag, and proceeds to chop the top of the coconut. I watch him with interest. It’s certainly done with some skill.
With the top off the coconut, he quickly grabs a bottle of rum from a supply box and pours a good glug of it inside. ‘There you go. A rum cocktail for the lady!’
I’m so flabbergasted at this surreal scene and this ridiculous situation, and the fact that he has just surreptitiously ticked another box off my bucket list, that I burst out laughing.
‘Okay, what’s so funny?’ he asks, in amusement.
‘This! You! You bring me out here to a remote desert island and somehow you manage to rustle up a rum and coconut cocktail. It’s amazing.’
I knock my nut against his bottle and I take a sip. It’s a little warm but still delicious.
Ethan takes a couple of glugs of straight rum and casts his eyes over the derelict hut.
I wave a casual hand. ‘If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like running water so I can take a shower before sundown.’
‘Oh, we already have running water,’ Ethan says glibly, plonking himself down next to me.
‘I’m serious,’ I tell him. ‘The very least I expect is bathroom facilities.’
‘There’s a waterfall in the middle of the island. It’s where all the mermaids hang out.’
He seems to be enjoying himself immensely. I sip on my rum and coconut.
‘I have to say, Lori. I’m surprised at how you’ve suddenly become high maintenance.’
I almost spit out my cocktail, as I splutter, ‘What? High maintenance? I have needs and expectations!’
‘And I wouldn’t dream of disappointing you. So, my darling Lori, you’ll be relieved to know this is all a bit of a joke. I remembered this old tool hut being here on this side of the island, so I got Kiko to drop us off here.’
‘This is not our house?’
He stands up and offers his hand to help me up to my feet. ‘No. Of course not. Our place is on the other side of the island. I think you’ll be very happy when you see it.’
‘You tricked me?’
He is laughing so hard he has to hold onto his sides. ‘And you fell for it hook, line and sinker. I can hardly believe you’d have been willing to share that run-down shack with me and for that I think I love you even more!’
He loves me … even more?
On the opposite side of the island, which is about a ten-minute walk away, is another beach and on it there’s a low-lying and sprawling two-story wooden-clad house. It looks like something from a tropical holiday brochure. It has an upper floor balcony with large windows that overlook a wide curve of perfect beach. Adjacent to the house is a fully equipped storeroom with a generator, a compressor to fill air tanks, and a full complement of dive equipment all hung up on tidy racks. The place is fabulous. My relief is palpable.
‘Let me give you a tour and you can ask me as many questions as you like,’ he laughs.
We explore the store and equipment room first. At the top of a wooden staircase, there’s a large meeting room where the walls are filled with charts and posters of fish and photographs identifying all the colourful coral that was to be found on the reef. There’s also a small office area with a computer and a radio transmitter.
Ethan fires up the radio equipment and uses it to check us in with GGF and to get a weather forecast. ‘Being remote, we don’t have internet but we can get a satellite connection,’ he explains to me. ‘Except, because it’s so expensive to use, it really is for emergencies only.’
‘This is all incredibly impressive. The only thing missing is other people,’ I quip.
He leans against the wall, still looking mightily amused with himself.
‘Okay. You are right about us needing a team but they don’t arrive for another week. Until then, it’s just me and you and we don’t even have to wear clothes, if you don’t want to.’
I sashay over to him. ‘How romantic. We can live here like naked savages.’
‘But with supplies…’ he adds, taking my hand and leading me back into the house and up the staircase. ‘Let me show you to your bedroom.’
Upstairs, a hallway leads to bedrooms. Ethan takes me to a doorway at the far corner of the house. Inside, the space is large and bright with a whole wall of window and glass doors and the outside wraparound balcony. The flooring and furniture are all darkly polished wood but the walls and the fabrics and sheets on the oversized bed are all white. The room is hot and oppressively stuffy, so Ethan goes straight to the doors to throw them open and to let in some air, sending the fine white muslin drapes and the mosquito net over the bed into billowing sails. While the room cools, we walk out onto the balcony to take in the view.
I lean on the wooden handrail and take a deep breath of hot and humid and salty air. It’s all so perfect here. I see that a weathered wooden jetty leads straight out from the beach across the shallows of the cobalt blue lagoon and into slightly deeper azure waters where there’s an old boathouse. The beach below us is the shape of a crescent moon.
‘This place is a paradise!’ I breathe, as Ethan comes to stand behind me and wrap his arms around my waist and to playfully nuzzle and kiss the back of my neck.
I sigh with pleasure and turn to him. As I press my body against his and our lips meet, I hear him groan with desire. Then, unwilling to wait any longer to make love again, he scoops me up into his arms and carries me over the threshold and back into the bedroom.
Chapter 19
Reef Island (ii)
The next morning, as the light of a new day filters across our bed and our tangle of limbs, I lie awake quietly watching Ethan’s dark eyelashes fluttering on his mahogany tanned cheekbones as he sleeps, tracing the line of his ruggedly handsome profile with my eyes.
He’s beautiful. His mouth, forming a slight smile, looks so adorably kissable.
When he eventually stirs and opens his eyes, his smile broadens.
‘Good morning, beautiful…’ he says to me and I take that as an invitation to snuggle.
We have a tropical breakfast together – fruit and cereal and coffee – sitting outside on our balcony with a view of the beach and the lagoon and then we spend the rest of the morning out of the escalating heat inside the dive equipment room. I make myself useful with the more mundane jobs of cleaning while Ethan is busy checking and servicing the dive
gear.
He tells me we’ll be diving on the reef this afternoon.
I’ve been excited about diving again but now I’m sick with nerves. I try hard not to show it. We haven’t actually ever dived together before and I feel like this is going to be a test to see how well I perform. I’m sure I’ve forgotten everything I’ve been taught and I’m terrified of getting everything wrong and failing him.
I’m not just here on a holiday. I’m here to dive. I’m here to help save the reef.
‘Our first job is to collect data and compare our findings with that of a year ago,’ Ethan tells me, gathering up some equipment. ‘How about I do the measuring and you can take the photos.’
He gives me an encouraging smile and an underwater camera.
As it turns out, what I thought was going to be a nerve-wracking and testing experience, is actually a beautiful and relaxed couple of hours spent swimming about in shallow bathwater-warm clear waters amongst exquisite corals and colourful fish on an area of reef really close to the shore. This goes a long way to settling my nerves.
Over the next few days, we repeat this process of diving on the reef to gather information in the mornings and comparing historical data in the afternoons and we celebrate with a sundowner when it becomes clear to us that the reef is showing fabulous signs of recovery.
Ethan explains that some of the faster growing branch corals have gained around twenty millimetres of new growth over the past twelve months and this points to a healthy and recuperating reef system.
I’ve only had one truly terrifying moment while we’ve been out diving. I suppose, having spent the first few days in the shallows just off the shoreline, where there are shoals of tiny pretty and colourful fish of the kind you see in tropical aquariums, I’d been lulled into a false sense of security in thinking there was nothing dangerous out there in the deeper waters.
It was when we ventured a little deeper that we came across a great swarm of sea snakes – the stuff of nightmares – and I was immediately in an absolute panic. I hate snakes of any kind but especially sea snakes. I’ve seen little banded sea snakes before but these ones were much bigger. These were all around me and in a panic I fled to the surface.
The Backpacking Housewife Page 22