by David Fleetham

Without knowing it, we as divers have developed a nonverbal language, unique to our sport. As Nat Suimanatemeya continued to point to the cluster of crinoids perched on the coral head in front of me, he watched my face and it was clear to him that I still had not seen what he was trying so patiently to show me. Finally he waved his hand at the group, and a magical apparition appeared above the starfish orgy, only to immediately return to its hiding place directly in front. My wide eyes and frantic adjustments to my camera were as unmistakable as yelling with excitement in his ear above water. I had searched for many years to find a harlequin ghost pipefish, and now I realize why I had never been successful.

This was my first day of six, diving off the MV Aqua-One, Thailand's newest live-aboard dive boat. Nat is the photo pro on the boat, and an accomplished photographer, so patience goes along with the job. His images appear in "Andaman and Beyond", a new coffee table book by the Tourism Authority of Thailand that illustrates the colourful marine life found in this area.

The bulk of Thailand (the entire country is about the size of France), is located between Burma, Cambodia and Laos. A tiny finger runs south separating Burma and Malaysia. It was here that I boarded the vessel in Phuket, a small island off the west coast of the Malay Peninsula. Leonardo DeCaprio of Titanic fame was here filming his latest movie, "The Beach", taking advantage of the area's incredible tropical jungle and oceanscapes. We left under the cover of nightfall and in the morning I awoke 80 kilometers to the Northwest in the Similan Islands. These nine islands make up a Marine National Park that is protected in an attempt to preserve the wonders that are found there, and also to reverse some of the damage from over fishing. Permanent moorings are found around all the islands to reduce harm caused by anchors and the reefs that I found were colourful, impressive and as dense as the jungles above water. Thailand's monsoon season also serves to protect the reef's inhabitants in that there are few or no visitors to these uninhabited islands from May to November. Growth on the reefs is unencumbered during this time. Summer begins in December and runs through to April. Flat calm seas are common place at this time, although long periods of sunshine occasionally produce rich blooms of plankton, limiting visibility.

We dove basically two different kinds of divesites here. The windward side of the islands take the brunt of the storms in monsoon season, the effect of which, both above and below water, is fully apparent. Large boulders are strewn above water along the shoreline, and these same granite globes are stacked on the sloping bottom. This creates an endless number of cracks and crevices, just the kind that marine life love to hide in, or at least hover nervously nearby. The lee side of the island which is usually protected from storms, does not have as sharp a drop-off area. The bottom tends to be a more gradual slope with a healthy coral reef giving way to a sandy bottom as you drop down.

On several drift dives I had current loving manta rays come by, hovering thirty feet away in tidal waters that I could barely make headway in. I did not try for too long, but rather kicked out from behind the coral head where I was hiding and drifted off to the next interesting looking conglomeration. Colourful soft corals compete for space in areas where the current is just right. Many of these areas also had thousands of tiny silver cardinalfish that would move together as if controlled by one mind. Above this mass, even larger schools of blue and yellow fusiliers would pick through the water in search of planktonic morsels on which they dine. Later in the day, huge lionfish would be out, sometimes in pairs, hunting cooperatively at the edge of the school of smaller fish which they would herd by spreading their ample pectoral fins.

We spent several days around the Similan Islands and left only due to a greater temptation. Approximately 80 kilometers away, Richelieu Rock lies just below the surface in open ocean, east of the Surin Islands and south of the Burmese border. When we arrived a telltale swirl of surge hinted of the submerged pinnacle which would break the surface later in the day at low tide. Talk of whale sharks had floated around the crew and passengers ever since I set foot onboard. Richelieu Rock has some undetermined attraction for these leviathans and we were well briefed on proper whale shark etiquette along with warnings that it was still early in the season and few of them had been seen so far this year. I kicked down to the rock and a school of barracuda appeared out of the blue and moved in to look me over and then drifted back out to continue their watch. As I moved around the pinnacle the bottom would transform dramatically. Dense stands of colourful soft coral changed to smooth rock and then crooked stands of green tubastrea would take over. Anemones coexisted with several different species of anemonefish, and as I snapped my fourth image the colourful attendant nervously alternated between harassing my camera and darting through the forest of tentacles that was its home.

We've all had the feeling before. Something is watching me. My hope was a whale shark, so I turned my head from my Ikelite housing to sweep the open water with my eyes. Nothing, but as I turned back there was something just to my left. Two of them actually, intently staring at this strange bubble blowing creature. Cuttlefish are just another of the many attractions at Richelieu Rock and here I had a male and female pair gazing my way. Earlier in the year it is not uncommon to view them mating and/or depositing their eggs in a coral crevice. As with most cephalopods, these cuttlefish ( Sepia officinalis) are impressive chameleons blending into their background until they are nearly invisible. They seemed as curious of me as I was of them and allowed me to finish my roll of film while they turned to the left and then the right.

Back on the boat I learned my sixth sense was working, I just needed to swim a bit more. Two other couples had an encounter with a whale shark that appeared out of the blue "like a school bus" and then made it's way up current until visibility enveloped it again. It did not appear for us again, although I spent more of my subsequent dives studying the open ocean. This was more difficult than it sounds for there is much to occupy ones eyes on Richelieu Rock. Schools of jacks and snapper could be found around every other turn, seahorses snaked their delicate tails around coral fronds, and a new species of moray eel appeared in every third crevice I examined.

Just as Richelieu Rock made it difficult to look out into open ocean, Thailand itself makes it difficult to spend all your time underwater. The warmth of the locals, the endless tastes of the food, temples, palaces, floating markets, ancient paintings in cavernsthe list goes on and on. I spent several days in Bangkok after saying good bye to my new friends on the Aqua-One. Taking a taxi in the city is an adventure in itself. I left any thought of renting a car after five minutes in traffic. If you like to combine an underwater adventure with a cultural one, Thailand should be on the top of your list.

The author would like to express his thanks to China Air (1-800-227-5118), the dive boat M/Y Aqua One (303-652-2357, www.dive-aqualine) and the Tourism Authority of Thailand (1-800-THAILAND) for their assistance.