TULAMBEN HAT-TRICK

TULAMBEN IS REGARDED as the diving epicentre of Bali’s north-east. Nestled in the shadow of Mount Agung, this coastal fishing village has numerous dive-resorts dotted along its volcanic shoreline, but few are as luxurious or better-placed for divers than our home for a fortnight, Villa Markisa.

The resort is the brainchild and home of Christiane Waldrich, who first dived the Tulamben black-sand slopes in 2002. She found an underwater realm rich in biodiversity, but it was her love of nudibranchs that motivated her to explore the area further, and in the process she has discovered and recorded more than 600 species of these multi-coloured sea slugs.

Christiane built Villa Markisa adjacent to her favourite critter hunting-ground at Seraya Secrets. The resort consists of bungalows, villas and well-appointed rooms in the main house, a swimming pool, bar, restaurant, spa and, of course, a fully equipped dive-centre.

Since its discovery, Seraya Secrets has become established as one of the world’s best muck-diving sites. Creatures that are seemingly rare in other parts of Indonesia regularly make an appearance here.

Harlequin shrimps, ghost pipefish, mimic octopus and pygmy seahorses are just a few of the critters commonly found within a few fin-kicks of Villa Markisa’s dive-centre.

On our first dive there, Balinese guide Sumatra pointed out a number of beautifully marked tiger shrimps. We also found some truly miniscule frogfish – sorry, did I say we? Some were so small that I couldn’t actually see them without the aid of a magnified viewfinder, having to rely solely on the sharp eyes and experience of the younger man.

Surprisingly, nudibranch sightings were few and far between, the polar opposite from our visit to this site last year, when they appeared abundant.

This is undoubtedly because of the current El Niño sweeping the planet, elevating sea temperatures and causing distressed animals to seek the deeper, possibly cooler waters further from

the coastline.

Those that can’t move often suffer the consequences, as was the case with a few anemones, their bleached white tentacles, although beautiful in appearance, marking their last sad throes of life.

TULAMBEN ISN’T ALL ABOUT muck-diving, however. Five minutes north on Markisa’s small dive-boat lies one of the world’s most famous wreck-sites.

The USAT Liberty was torpedoed and damaged on her way from Lombok Strait in 1942. She was towed towards the harbour at Singaraja but, taking on too much water, was beached at Tulamben to enable salvage of her cargo and fittings.

The remains were left rusting on the beach until Mount Agung erupted in 1963, and the resulting earth tremors and magma flow are said to have caused the wreck to roll off the shore. It now lies on its starboard side some 30m from the beach, totally encrusted in rich coral growth.

In past years the wreck has been home for a large school of jack, forming tight tornadoes above and around the Liberty’s superstructure. I was disappointed to discover that these much-photographed fish are no longer present, having moved to possibly quieter or more productive hunting-grounds a few years ago.

The current Liberty A-listers are the resident bumphead parrotfish. These huge corallivores spend the night resting in the shelter of the hull before congregating at the stern as the sun’s rays start to penetrate the water. They briefly cruise the reef slopes, before dispersing to munch their way around Tulamben’s numerous coral reefs.

The best time to be in the water is around 6am, with the sun rising a few minutes later. This meant a pre-dawn start involving alarm clocks and strong coffee, yet even at this ungodly hour other divers could already be seen in the water as we rolled off the boat, a testament to the popularity of thi

IF DIVING ON MUCK OR WRECKS doesn’t light your fire, the area immediately south of the Liberty offers prolific coral reefs and would be our destination for a mid-morning dive.

Belying the unimaginative name of Coral Garden, the site boasts a stunning anemone field housing differing species of clownfish at its summit. Further down the reef slope, the topography changes to the now-familiar volcanic black sand with sporadic coral outcrops.

One of these was frequented by hinge-beak, candy-stripe and red-banded cleaner shrimp, all offering a wash-and- brush-up service to the resident fish.

We watched in awe as a crimson coral trout swam slowly around this cleaning station, its naturally cautious nature set aside as it postured boldly, patiently waiting for a few of the resident shrimps to jump onboard and meticulously pick away parasites from its body.

It was fascinating to see a potential shrimp supper confidently move around this fearsome mini-predator’s array of sharp white teeth, earning its own meal through a partnership born over millennia of mutual trust.

I’m a reef-nut and, as nice as Coral Gardens are, I wanted more. “That’s not a problem, Nigel,” Christiane told me. “We’re going further south to visit a really spectacular reef tomorrow – are you coming”? That has to be a trick question, I thought, overwhelmed by the anticipation of the coming day’s diving.

Again leaving before sunrise, the skipper sped his boat over glassy waters, hugging the coastline as Mount Agung’s peak caught the first of the rising sun’s red glow. This outstanding sight alone was worth the effort of the early start, but there were more spectacles to come.

After the short ride we arrived at the Pyramids. This site consists of dozens of man-made structures, built from a variety of building materials that include concrete blocks, tyres and metal tubing.

THE FIRST HOLLOW PYRAMID structure was built in the late 1990s, with others added later that have become the permanent residence for countless marine animals, sponges and corals.

The first one we visited was enveloped by a swarm of golden sweepers, hugging the contours of the structure as they expanded and contracted during their endless search for passing plankton.

Others were covered in crinoids, their feathered fronds appearing to soften the hard lines of the structures. The pyramids give way to a fringing reef made up mainly of large coral bommies, again teeming with life.

I encouraged Nina to pose for a few photos by a densely populated outcrop and, concentrating on capturing the moment, we both missed a beautifully camouflaged ornate ghost pipefish.

Its livery had been almost invisible next to the crinoid it mimicked – it was doing a great job of remaining hidden in plain sight, so much so that we didn’t discover its existence until viewing the images later that evening. The Pyramids and their adjacent reefs had proved every bit as spectacular as Christiane had promised.

Night-diving on the black-sand sites can also yield some memorable encounters. Submerging after the sun had dropped below the horizon at Sidem, the home of the three Rhinopias, eagle-eyed guide Norris found some rarely seen filamentous scorpionfish.

These tiny specimens share an uncanny resemblance to the Rhinopias, but are only an inch or so in length.

Another first for me was the discovery of a mototi octopus. This is a close relative of the blue-ringed octopus and has the same deadly cocktail of toxins stored in its saliva. Unlike its famous cousin, however, the mototi has only two iridescent blue rings, one on either side of its body, and these are displayed when the animal is excited or feels threatened.

For me, Bali is the jewel in the crown of Asian diving. This was my fifth voyage of discovery there, enjoyin