It was the day of our Sipadan booking. According to our docs we were meant to be off for a couple of dives around Mabul that very afternoon.
I had been careful to set an alarm for the crack of dawn to be there when the dive shop opened. However the boat we had supposed to be on departed earlier than the dive shop opened. This fact gripped me with an odd cocktail of urgency, fear and resignation.
We grabbed our things and dashed out to wait by the dive shop. The place was hidden behind a featureless metal gate. No windows or signs to betray that this was the place we needed, barely even a street sign but the lack of other doors indicated that it had to be this place.
It was very early, and of course: still closed. Pat and I nervously waited as the sun rose in the sky, and morning traffic began to trundle past. At some time after 8 a sleepy looking woman opened the door and we hurried in.
It was a cluttered place reminiscent of someone’s living room. We explained our situation to the woman, she asked us to wait in some faded yellow armchairs as she made a couple of calls. Her demeanour and assurances that everything would be fine assuaged my anxiety somewhat.
Sure enough, after a few moments she told us that she had put us the last boat to the island that day, and our booking was still fine. A short while passed and someone turned up to take us to the dock.
We lobbed our packs in the back of a huge motorboat. It seemed that we were the only passengers on it. Everyone else must have made their transfers properly. We soon left Semporna and the harbour behind us and headed out into open water. I felt eager to explore the island we were headed to, to meet some new people and most importantly: Hyped that I would soon be diving in one of the most beautiful dive spots in the world!
I had been careful to set an alarm for the crack of dawn to be there when the dive shop opened. However the boat we had supposed to be on departed earlier than the dive shop opened. This fact gripped me with an odd cocktail of urgency, fear and resignation.
We grabbed our things and dashed out to wait by the dive shop. The place was hidden behind a featureless metal gate. No windows or signs to betray that this was the place we needed, barely even a street sign but the lack of other doors indicated that it had to be this place.
It was very early, and of course: still closed. Pat and I nervously waited as the sun rose in the sky, and morning traffic began to trundle past. At some time after 8 a sleepy looking woman opened the door and we hurried in.
It was a cluttered place reminiscent of someone’s living room. We explained our situation to the woman, she asked us to wait in some faded yellow armchairs as she made a couple of calls. Her demeanour and assurances that everything would be fine assuaged my anxiety somewhat.
Sure enough, after a few moments she told us that she had put us the last boat to the island that day, and our booking was still fine. A short while passed and someone turned up to take us to the dock.
We lobbed our packs in the back of a huge motorboat. It seemed that we were the only passengers on it. Everyone else must have made their transfers properly. We soon left Semporna and the harbour behind us and headed out into open water. I felt eager to explore the island we were headed to, to meet some new people and most importantly: Hyped that I would soon be diving in one of the most beautiful dive spots in the world!
