Blub, blub, I think I'm in love

It will surprise no one that a bad day in Bali beats a good day in lots of other places. Here, even the humdrum is pretty darn fantastic.

Yesterday was not just a day in Bali. It was a great day in Bali.

We've settled into a lovely rhythm here in Padangbai, waking up to the crowing of the roosters (honestly, not an embellishment nor literary device!), lingering in bed to admire the vanes of the ceiling fan circling behind the translucent the mosquito canopy overhead. The view of the draping canopy -- with its a wooden hoop spreading the gauzy fabric to cover the mattress and also focusing its rise to a single point above us -- somehow never fails to conjure Arabian music in my head. I can observe it rocking gently in the fan's breeze for far longer, and with far more contentment, than I care to admit.

At some point, I get up (the early riser of the two of us) and migrate to the balcony of our little two-story hut to read or watch the village of Padangbai spring to life again, heralded by the sweepers in every establishment, scratching of straw brooms against stone pavers and polished tile. At some point, I climb down the stairs from the balcony, walk a few paces to the breakfast counter, and place our order. Fifteen minutes later, a pancake or egg dish, fruit salad and two cups of the tastiest coffee on planet Earth are delivered to our door. We eat, pondering how to spend the day. (Walk a block down to the fabulous snorkeling beach? Walk across the street to the main beach? Or just pick a new restaurant to try their versions of various Balinese dishes, or fruit juice, or get an early start on a Bintang, the ubiquitous local lager?)

Most days, we continue this pace until after sundown, letting our appetites for food, drink and activity be our guide. It's a gentle rhythm.

Yesterday before breakfast, I finished coding my first non-trivial iPhone application, completed as one of the assignments for the Stanford University iPhone Application Programming course I've been following, whose materials (including videos from the course) are available for free online. (You may ask, "this is what he does in Bali?" Yes. It is.) Meet Hello Polly, my polygon rendering application that I'm sure will make millions on the iPhone App Store.



After breakfast, yesterday's activities included my last two training dives. The first took us out to a wall extending to about 50 meters down, coral and countless varieties of sea life clinging to its vertical face. Hovering at various depths down to our maximum of 18 meters, a gentle current carrying us laterally along the wall, I have never felt closer to flying in all my life. Practicing maintaining buoyancy -- achieved primarily by controlling the amount of air in your lungs -- only made the experience more sublime. Want to ascend slightly? Take a deeper breath. Descend? Release more air on your next exhalation. To my surprise, this quickly becomes second-nature, require little more thought or concentration to change your depth that it does to walk down the sidewalk on the surface. Complement this buoyancy control with a kick from your swim fins, and voila, you are able to navigate the underwater world fully in three dimensions!

I was relieved and amazed to discover that, contrary to feeling like shark bait, diving (at least in Bali's waters) feels like walking through an underwater garden. Fish and coral and crustaceans and plant life abound, but none of it felt the slightest bit threatening to me. (Is it possible that Bali's underwater dwellers are Hindus, too?) At one point, we came upon a group of five squid, each the size of a terrier, hovering and darting in their other-worldly way, communicating with electric colors on their skin, raising their tentacles as if to say, "'ay, you, come on ova here!" I felt zero trepidation, and following my dive instructor's lead, held out a hand, wiggling my fingers. It was fascinating to watch their eyes pivot in their sockets, examining us, knowing that with their jet-like propulsion, they could disappear in a flash, but seemed, too, to understand that we were no (immediate) threat. And, instead of hearing the klaxons of a red alert, I was imagining the Cousteau's lovely lilt: "'ere we 'ave the squid in 'is natif 'abitat, peacefoully exploring 'is surroundings, much as we are."

(To say this experience makes me second-guess consuming squid at the dinner table is an understatement.)

Our final dive -- all that stood between me and certification -- took us out to a ship-"wreck" and an artificial reef. The scare quotes are warranted because this ship was sunk deliberately as a diving attraction, a common but to me distasteful practice in areas vying for the diver's dollar or pound or euro.

My favorite moments were finding little spots along the "reef," a cylindrically-wound metal mesh, contorted, unrolled and dropped to twist along the bottom. The metal gives coral a place to grow, and provides protection for fish, and so attracts both. In appearance, it looked less like a reef to me than an underwater roller coaster. Soaring just inches above its undulating length was great fun (as well as another good test of buoyancy control), and at several points I would spot something of interest attached to or just underneath the mesh, and would pivot to observe, often hovering head down, a floating underwater handstand of sorts. One of my biggest surprises of scuba diving is how gracefully and acrobatically it is possible to move, wearing 60 pounds of gear.

After the reef, we proceeded to the final skill check before heading back to our boat. Our last skill was complete mask removal and replacement, something our practice in the pool showed me was easier than I imagined it would be. Like most things in scuba, the trick is just to remain calm, keep your head and follow your training. After successfully replacing and clearing my mask, there was an underwater celebration of sorts, handshakes, and slow-motion high fives. As we ascended to the surface, I went slowly, looking all around me, savoring my last moments underwater for a while.



Thanks to my excellent instructor, Laura Stolzenberg, and all the staff at WaterWorxx in Padangbai for an absolutely unforgettable, fun and successful training course!

Now that my days aren't full of dives, Julie (who's been certified for years) and I are contemplating our next dive experiences. I can hardly wait to try diving with my new dive buddy.