There's nothing like a breathtaking coral reef teeming with tropical fish in crystal clear waters on a sunny day. Nothing. If I could freeze time and hang out there in awe for a while, I would. If I could develop the snapshots of my memory so I can share every second with you, I would. If I could describe even semi-adequately how stunning everything looks and exactly how I feel, I would.

There is something magical about a good dive; when the elements all work together to give you that perfect experience. Tioman over the weekend ranked right up there with Phuket as one of the best dive trips I've ever had. Not to say I've had a whole lot, but it was totally worth the miserable three-hour-plus drives through torrential rain and winding roads and foggy night.

When people talk about diving, they always talk about seeing the big things: hammerhead sharks, manta rays, whales... to see these creatures are every diver's dream. But there comes a time when I think I get so caught up with the big things that I forget to appreciate the smaller beauties right in front of my eyes. Sometimes I catch myself spending precious minutes underwater looking out in hopes of seeing that something big, while totally not registering all the smaller (but no less beautiful) things passing before my mask.

Not anymore. Epiphany struck during dive number two on the weekend. I properly looked at - and promptly fell in love with - all the small tropical fish, who by the way are simply fascinating (Y will say it's because I like cute things). The rich colours, the countless species... the schools of a thousand tiny fish... I guess we take them for granted after a while because there're so many of them, and because we're too busy waiting for the holy grail. Set against the backdrop of simply gorgeous coral reefs... like I said, if I could develop the mental snapshots...

And just as I learnt how to appreciate every tiny critter and every unique coral, we saw it - a turtle, swimming among it all. It was my first turtle, and I didn't move until it had gone out of sight. It was to be the first of three sightings. The third time we saw a turtle it was in fantastically clear waters and it was maybe three feet from me. I watched it for as long as I dared without holding up the entire dive group. If I were alone, I might not have left for minutes more.

I heart scuba diving. In ideal conditions, it takes my breath away and inspires a dumbfounded awe like few things do. It reminds me of how beautiful the world we live in is - nay, beautiful does not even come close; it reminds me of just how small and insignificant I and my petty concerns are in the scheme of an endless (underwater) world; it reminds me of the Creator who formed all. I have always been a sucker for the beach; now I am (also) completely hooked on the unseen below the waves.

Anything that can make me lug a dead-heavy oxygen tank on my back, struggle clumsily with boots and fins and mask and weight belt and (the hardest of all) wetsuit over and over and over again, and then have to pay for it all, has really got to be something. I mean, I'm actually giving up shopping for this stuff. It's that good.

We also saw lots of blue-spotted rays. And a wandering squid. And tons of the most amazing fish. We played with clownfish - still one of my favourites. And explored tunnels. And saw dolphins in the distance from our boat. I give up. I just can't describe that feeling.