the Togean islands and Bunaken

I learned how to scuba dive in North Sulawesi. Well, technically I didn't learn to scuba dive in North Sulawesi but on the strings of tiny tropical islands and coral beds that surround it.
I hadn't originally planned to scuba dive up there and only did so as a result of the millions of personal recommendations i received from other travellers. The further north I ventured, the more and more wide eyed people spoke to me of the sub-aquatic wonders as if there were some secret coral lair where Poseidon himself offers personal wisdom to his harem of beautiful water nymphs while an infinite number of rainbow coloured fish dance and swirl around his shimmering tail.

Given that impression, i began to consider leaving Sulawesi without having dived in the same way i might consider murdering all my friends and family. Utterly wrong.
Now I'm glad my overactive conscious drove me beneath the waters, because what I found there was wonderful. The description I gave earlier actually turned out to be quite accurate, with the possible exception of Poseidon himself being present.
The Togean islands, where i completed my PADI course, boast the intriguing claim of every known type of coral in an unusually small area. I personally have enough coral knowledge to identify exactly 0 species of coral other than by my own preschool terms such as "the one that looks a bit like a cabbage" and "the one that looks a bit like a brain"; but the colourful coral gardens teeming with tropical fish were no less astonishing as a result. The other area I dived, around Bunaken island, north of Manado, is rumoured to have been one of Jacques Cousteau's favourite destinations for diving. It might  take another few trips before I have the same level of experience as monsieur Cousteau, but after diving there I'm not at all surprised he enjoyed it.

I was lucky enough to see sharks, rays, lobsters, groupers, baracuda, ghost pipefish, and many more, but my personal favourite underwater inhabitant had to be the snoozing turtles hidden in their coral beds.

This fellow and many others like him weren't always easy to spot, having chosen their resting places hidden in caverns in the coral-wall, but it was extremely exciting when we did. Sometimes they would sense our presence and stir, watching us hazily for a few moments then shaking the lethargy from their plated heads and gliding out between us into the big blue.
One such fellow was the biggest turtle I had ever seen. His shell alone was easily six feet long. Having your breath taken away should be an enchanting experience; but since I had run short on cash and was free diving at the time (just a snorkel and fins) with the closest air source ten metres above my head, the taking away of my breath did nothing but endanger my life.
And when the giant beast finally heaved himself up and began his flight in my direction, it was less like witnessing a magical encounter with nature than standing in the tracks of a living freight train on the approach.
Nevertheless, I made it to the surface live and kicking (albeit kicking furiously). After a huge gulp of fresh air, I peered beneath me and was just in time to watch the slow Goliath of the sea disappear into the abyss.
Free diving is an exhausting activity, but it always seemed a lot easier knowing the place I had to recuperate.

Here, you are always warm and comfortable. Here, the soft breeze brings no sounds except the distant melody of tropical birdsong and the hiss of waves. Here, time seems to move as slowly and peacefully as the fluffy clouds across the blue sky...
Which would be simply lovely if I weren't relentlessly hunted by my own personal cloud of thirsty mosquitoes LIKE EVERYWHERE ELSE IN ASIA.