Deep Down the Gili Trawangan

by Shivani Jain (India)

A leap into the unknown Indonesia

Quietness, of all things, captivated me. Especially when it was in the closeness of turtles, schools of snapper, triggerfish, sharks, and Nemo. Around the time I was in Bali in 2019, I had left the country home to travel to this charismatic island. We have been living out of our suitcases at the edge of the Indian Ocean, corals and beaches covered in sand. Underwater marine life that may have buried worries or fears travellers never spoke of, but that entwined them in a mysterious bond they brushed off as vacation bliss. I knew I had been wanting to be there in my subconscious mind. It was the 29th day of September, the fifth day of the trip. I had been travelling for hours from the top of the South Island Seminyak southwestward to the Gili Trawangan. I sat alone on the top deck of the ferry, treasuring solitude. The aim was to get to the Gili Islands that delicately laced the Indian Ocean boundary, separating the two worlds. I walked towards the dive school and waited at the dive reception, from beyond which the instructor emerged. "Welcome, to Trawangan Dive." The instructor greeted enthusiastically. He had light brown eyes, scanty hair but a tranquil and comforting smile. He introduced us to some basic theory and safety rules before trying on the scuba equipment in the pool. During the pool session, he taught some basic skills to boost our confidence underwater. Never before had I taken such an interest in the rules the instructors tell. After a three hour PADI training course, we were ready to voyage into the sea. After a ten-minute boat ride and a back roll, I was into the water, and an oxygen tank behind my back with my name written on it, an oxygen mask on my face, fins on my feet and diving suit tightly holding my each body part. Your GPS doesn't work underwater. I followed the instructor as best I could, archaic as it felt. Minutes passed. The ocean grew deeper and got heavier as I dived down. The underwater scenery was both enormous and spectacular at the same time. Solace and sparseness engulfed me. In the background, I could hear the subtle gushing of the oxygen from the oxygen tank tied to my back. My ears were getting heavy as I was trying to equalize. I was finally getting closer to the approximate vicinity of my 'dreams'. In the distance, I could see schools of snapper looming. Approaching was an old turtle from the foot of the ocean. It was here that I sought refuge. Large rolling coral reefs, dense in both soft and hard corals. I entered in. It looked historic and unexplored. Natural light poured into the ocean as manta rays that extended downward from the ocean surface almost to the seabed. The entire underwater structure was held together by several Gothic-styled mountainous rocks and supporting ramparts. "Hi, I want to go deeper." I signed back. My desperation echoed through the water, "This is a beautiful place and bizarrely reminiscent" "What's your pressure gauge?" he inquired. "Near about 100" I showed him, examining the exquisite rolling architecture of the coral reefs. "I can let her go on her own.” He paused for a moment, looking at me as if he was ready to leave my hand. "Don’t go at the far end of the reefs. Come this way" he said and pushed me ahead. I pushed my fins hard and moved towards the deep ridges, leading to a dive site of epic proportions. I was awed. The abundance of marine life, the attractive coral formations, the majestic turquoise blue waters in the background, I had a moment of déjà vu. It was all coming back to me like reminiscences, but ones that I had never had. The clouds darkened, a thunderstorm was brewing. We moved up along to where the boat waited and the surface began. The instructor pointed at a small signage written on the bottom end of the boat. The signage read “We dive not to escape life, but for life not to escape us”. A drop trickled down the ocean, it wasn't the rain.