The second typhoon of the trip hit us just a week or two ago. This one was not nearly as big or bad as the last one, but it still was a super-storm nonetheless. It was mostly past when I decided to take my bike out, and survey the damage done. I cruised down the hill to a little jut of land that stretched it’s way out into the water. The rain started to gain a bit, reminding us that the Typhoon was still not over. Still though- fishermen crouched on rocks, reeling in their lines, and old men dealt cards in a small concrete gazebo. A beaten up tree lay across the walk way, forcing me to heave my bike across the small stretch of pavement.
Soon the spit of land petered it’s way out into a long stretch of boulders which acted like a bridge over the water. Waves, high and rough, crashed against the shore. About fifty locals and tourists alike lined the arm of stone, spectating a lone surfer braving the tyrannical gusts of ocean. I stood on the rocks with the fifty others, standing stunned at the man’s courage, or perhaps stupidity.
“Have you ever seen the water this bad?” I asked.
“No.” A local told me.
A week later, the rest of the family, and some friends rented a boat to go diving. About halfway through the boat ride, the engine failed. There were no tows around, so the boat captain was forced to call the Coast Guard. Until rescue arrived, the boat just slowly drifted away from the island’s shore. Approximately a mile from the coastline, they were picked up by a rescue boat. In the end, though, Josh was stoked that he got to ride in a Coast Guard boat, and everyone got back in time to feed sting rays at the boat docks.
That evening I got to go night diving at a famous wreck (more accurately two wrecks)- the Tokai Maru and the SS Comoran. It’s a dive sight a little less than a hundred feet deep, in which two ship wrecks, laying on their sides, touch each other. Ken Holbein (a.k.a Dive Instructor) led us through little nooks and cranny, as well as swim-throughs on the ship. We drifted through what seemed like giant rib cages, where I assume paneling once was. Eventually, we were directed into a small room. Tucked in the corner was an early twentieth century bathtub, which I am informed is cleaned/dusted frequently by a local diver. When the excursion came to an end, a diver was claiming to have seen a six foot jelly fish lurking in the ship.