Cook Spook

Nigella Lawson

Well, that’s Nigella Lawson up there.

I’m sitting here watching AFC, watching Vivien Tan cooking on the rooftop of some Singapore skyscraper, and began to wonder why can’t Malaysia cook up a cooking program like this, or like Nigella’s. With the exception of Chef Wan, there isn’t anything worth watching. Every single ‘celebrity’ chef will be addressing the audience with the formality of a minister.

“Tuan-tuan dan puan-puan, sekarang kita hiris bawang ini halus-halus dengan pisau yang tajam ini, ya?”

What the fork is that? It sounds like some Tauhid session in a mosque after Isya’ prayers.

“Anak-anak, hari ni ustaz akan mengajar mengenai Sifat 20. Sifat yang pertama, ya anak-anak, ialah Wujud. Wujud itu maknanya Ada. Minggu depan kita belajar sifat yang kedua pulak, ya anak-anak?”

Don’t talk about camera angles, la. I doubt that they use MCP. Probably just a single camera and the cameraman’s somewhere in the cafetaria outside having coffee. Sometimes you have a chef cooking something, and they will put an actor or actress as a co-host of the show. And while the chef speaks in that formal tone as per above, you get this bimbo co-host parroting every single word because he/she hasn’t got as much as a rat’s ass-sized idea of what’s happening. Well, I cannot blame them since a squid would probably have a higher IQ than they.

Recently, Wifey pointed out to me that for the month of Ramadhan, they have a religious teacher as a co-host on one of RTM1’s cooking program. And while this chef is busy trying to explain to the audience about the process of cooking a meal, you have this ustaz giving lectures on morality and religion. What cow-shit-for-brain producer came out with that concept? Such a turn-off, that. Imagine this:

Chef: “Baiklah tuan-tuan dan puan-puan, sekarang kita buangkan kulit bawang ini sebab kita tidak memerlukannya.”

Ustaz: “Hatta diingatkan kepada semua supaya tidak membazir kerana perbuatan membazir ini adalah perbuatan rakan-rakan syaitan.”

Go eat the bleeding kulit bawang, you plonk! Why can’t this plonk of an ustaz do more research on the ingredients and find some religious connotation to the word “onion” or something.

Seriously, you watch a Singapore production, you know that they have positioned the program for worldwide distribution, while the ones produced in Malaysia will have to rely heavily on sponsors for airtime.

In the meantime, I shall enjoy watching some mamak cook something in a dirty kitchen in the back lane. More entertainment there.

Sehari Berpuasa Di Koleq 26 Tahun Yang Lampau

Malay College Centenary Celebration's First Day Cover

Puasa di Kuala Kangsar zaman aku kat Koleq memang best. Beberapa kali kami di Perak mula berpuasa lambat dari KL, dan raya awal sehari…courtesy of Almarhum Sultan Perak ketika itu (Sultan Idris Shah).

Hari-hari berpuasa bermula jam 2.00 pagi bila kitorang dihidangkan nasi panas yang dah sejuk, ikan kembung pecah perut goreng yang dah lemau dan tidak garing lagi, sayur kobis sejuk, dan kuah masak lemak asam keping. Sebagai tambahan, telur rebus yang lazimnya diberikan untuk breakfast, diletakkan bersama dalam tray aluminium tersebut. Air sirap dan kopi-O yang kalau panas memang bonus. Lepas tu balun tidur balik…subuh memang entah ke mana la masa tu.

Masa class, pukul 10 pagi perut dah mula berkeroncong. Apa tak nya. Kala bulan biasa, masuk class pagi-pagi ada nasi goreng sepinggan dengan sambal telur dan keropok hancur yang ditebarkan atas nasi sebagai condiment. Pukul 10 pagi ada break, dan kebiasaannya aku beli laksa tiga kupang (30 sen) dengan air sirap sekupang (10 sen)…kasi RM1.00 tapi dapat balik RM4.60. Arwah Makcik Kantin tu ada husband yang ‘blur’. Aku kasi seringgit tak sampai 20 saat kemudian dia akan berpaling kepada aku sambil bertanya, “Tadi mike (mee-ke) kasi lima hengget ye?” Aku angguk aje la. Tak lah hari-hari dia macam tu. Tapi aku rasa bila makcik kantin tak kasi dia henjut malam sebeum tu, esok muka laki dia memang macam cipan tanah…dan blur sial sebab air dah penuh dan pekat macam Colgate meleleh ikut telinga.

Mungkin jugak taik telinga dia cair dulu…meleleh keluar.

Apa pun, balik lunch balun tidur sampai afternoon prep bila masa aku bangun tidur dan pergi ke class untuk sambung tidur. Aku tak boleh lupa classmate aku sorang yang birthdaynya sehari sebelum aku punya, tidur dan tak ada siapa pun kejut dia…lepas berbuka baru dia balik dan masuk dining hall dengan masih beruniform sekolah. Muka berbirat macam stretchmarks pompuan beranak, dan airliur basi dah berkerak kat tepi mulut.

Masa games petang ada la yang turun main takraw, yang suka tepuk telur sendiri pergi main basketball. Swimmers macam aku nak main apa? Jadi aku pun terus ukur tilam atas katil, pejam mata dan bermimpikan sedang main games petang tu. Pukul 6 baru nak bangun mandi dan sebagainya. Masuk dining hall pukul 6.45 petang. Dan disebabkan kitorang tahun tu dapat jadi Perak Champ untuk swimming dan water polo, maka kitorang pun duduk di meja asing dari orang lain dan dapat ‘special rations’. Makan sedap dari orang lain la.

Lepas tu pergi sembahyang terawih. Masjid baru tak siap lagi dan masjid lama dah diruntuhkan. Jadi kitorang join jemaah sembahyang kat madrasah yang dinaiktaraf as masjid. Aku selalunya buat 8 raka’at aje. Aku punya reasoning sebab Nabi tak pernah buat lebih dari 8 dan 20 cuma mula time Saidina Omar al-Khattab. Sebenarnya aku tak suka nak berpeluh-peluh dalam baju melayu hitam aku yang gerenti ‘dry cleaning’ hari-hari (terminologi sekarang ialah recycle) sehingga semut mula hurung baju. Lepas tu bukannnya aku balik ke dorm. Aku lepak lagi kat madrasah mengacau orang sembahyang. Kalau ada member yang sembahyang dan ruku’, aku dengan geng-geng aku mula la kacau tegur pasal bontot mamat ni la, dan sebaginya. Bila dia tahyat akhir dan jari dia angkat masa dua kalimah syahadah, kitorang buat bentuk ‘O’ dengan jari tangan dan masukkan jari yang diangkat tu kedalam ‘O’ tadi….kalau mamat tu senyum ke, tahan gelak ke, memang kena la remarks macam “Tak khusyuk” or “Sembahyang mana boleh senyum” dan sebagainya.

Habis terawih, balun moreh dulu kat madrasah sebelum balik ke dining hall untuk makan kuih dan minum kopi O atau teh melekit perasa gula satu lori.

1982 adalah tahun World Cup. Jadi kitorang dibenarkan ke Dewan Tun Abdul Razak (Dewan TAR) untuk tengok bola. Aku, Jawa, Bawang, Adlan (Adlan Ali…bukan Adlan Ahmad kat Iskandar tu) akan pergi lastik cicak, especially kalau Thursday Night Friday. Kitorang kumpulkan semua bangkai cicak tadi dan sapukan ke bawah pintu bilik Pengetua. Aktiviti ini akan berterusan sehinggalah tiba masa untuk bersahur lagi jam 2 pagi.

Sekian, kisah satu hari berpuasa di Koleq 26 tahun yang lampau. Semoga anda telah terhibur. Kita jumpa lagi di rangkaian yang sama, pada waktu dan hari yang sama minggu hadapan.

Suatu Pagi Ramadhan Lebih 20 Tahun Lalu

6.30 pagi. Kami duduk beramai-ramai di atas Bukit Tyndall memakai half-celoreng bersama poncho. Cuaca bukannya hujan, tetapi poncho adalah pakaian harian kami di pagi begini. Dan kami sedang menunggu PTI (Physical Training Instructor) kami bernama Sergeant Wan Su (bersara sebagai Flight Sergeant), dan beliau merupakan orang yang paling kami benci semasa latihan kadet. Hmm…salah seorang dari yang dibenci sebenarnya, cuma Wan Su ni sickening di pagi hari.

Setiap pagi hari Isnin, akan menjadi suatu lumrah bagi Wan Su untuk membuat kami berlari 10 round keliling padang bola sambil mengangkat seorang buddy sama ada dalam keadaan darling carry ataupun fireman lift. Lepas itu beliau akan suruh kami membuat side-roll dan forward-roll dan tak akan berhenti sehingga kami semua muntah, tak kira di bulan Ramadhan mahupun bulan biasa. “Pecah lemak lepas weekend,” katanya.

Cipet.

6.35 pagi. Wan Su tidak muncul-muncul. Beberapa orang pegawai kadet mula mendoakan agar Wan Su ditimpa kemalangan jalanraya supaya pagi tersebut kami tak kena torture oleh beliau. Kami mula berseloroh mengenai bagaimana Wan Su akan terpele’ot dilanggar lori hantu, atau dilanggar lori babi hingga terpelanting ke dalam hutan dan tidak disedari oleh sesiapa pun.

6.45 pagi. Harapan semakin cerah, semakin cerah bak pandangan ketika itu. Ada yang dah mula menyuruh squad leader memberi arahan supaya bersurai kerana pada jam 8.00 pagi biasanya ada room inspection oleh duty officer, dan selepas itu latihan akademik (latihan kawad biasanya jam 12 tengahari ke atas – waktu dan masa yang gerenti akan meleburkan sel-sel otak).

6.55 pagi. Kami semua tersenyum. Mungkin akhirnya doa kami dimakbulkan Tuhan, dan Wan Su kini selamat berehat di dalam hutan dengan motor cub-chai di atas kepalanya. Lagi 5 minit matapelajaran PT (physical training) akan tamat. Kami pun mula membuka poncho, dan squad leader mula menyuruh kami berbaris untuk bersurai.

Tiba-tiba kedengaran bunyi sebuah cub-chai bodoh. Dan muncul wajah cipet Wan Su dengan sengeh babinya.

“Kau orang ingat aku dah mampus?” tanya beliau dengan suara yang amat sickening.

Rupanya dia telah meminta kebenaran Komandan supaya boleh beliau torture kami sehingga jam 9.30 pagi.

Memang sial!

5 tahun lepas aku terserempak dengan Wan Su yang kini bekerja sebagai seorang pengawal keselamatan di salah sebuah hospital kerajaan.

“Apa naik badan ni tuan?” tanya beliau kepada aku. “Duduk dengan saya sebulan kasi saya torture bagi kurus balik.”

Aku tengok muka dia, tak habis-habis sickening, dan aku tahu dia bukannya joking.

Cipet.

Margarita Women

Last night’s berbuka puasa was an eye-opener.

In fact, JB has been an eye-opener for me. I have been watching lots of characters here, and see some similarities with situations back in KL. Another eye-opener was in one of today’s daily about a child’s mishap, and a picture of the child and mother was depicted in the column.

One glance got me thinking, “How come this old mother has a young child?” A read later showed that she’s only 20 and a face of someone in the late 40’s. I can only think of one thing on the spur of a moment and that was: her husband had already achieved orgasm while she was just about to reach it when the husband rolls of her and said, “You buat sendiri lah!”

Hence that face.

I don’t understand how faces and characters can change after marriage. I have a lifetime friend who has more platinum on his hair than Michael Jackson’s discography. And all because of the way his wife treats him. He is only in that marriage still because of his children.

We had an impromptu gathering the other day with a friend we’ve not met since he got married to this horrendous looking woman because he was desperate to get married as age was catching up, and his wife was desperate to get someone ‘intelligent’. And that night, he was no longer his jovial self. He used to joke a lot with us but he doesn’t even smile anymore. Hardly. And his wife was the hijacker of conversations that night, wanting to intrude in every single thing we talked about, and would change topics as and when she pleases.

And another friend had just this comment to make about her after they had left. “What is wrong with his wife? She really has an attitude. And she looks like one of those orang asli women from kaum Margarita.”

I turned and looked at him. “You’re lucky you weren’t the intelligent one when she met him, otherwise she would have married you. And it’s Negrito! Margarita is a drink!”

He laughed. “Yeah, she would be uglier if she had had a glass of Margarita.”

The Best Ramadhan In Malaysia

While Malaysia was suffering from the ignominy of the stupid ISA issues, Wifey and I had had a good weekend with friends and family members.

We went back to KL from JB on the 3rd September and the whole weekend was spent with our children. The whole house was a circus for a while, especially when we had a potluck berbuka puasa with friends at home. Wifey made an excellent rendang that I still crave for now.

Array of food for the berbuka puasa
The array of food for berbuka

Wifey and friends whacking food
Wifey and friends whacking food

The following Monday we went for berbuka with my kids at my house in USJ. Wifey made mee hoon goreng and we bought some stuff as well.

Wifey, Hana and Fazira preparing the table
Wifey, Hana and Fazira preparing the table

Wifey and I with Farhan and Nisaa
Wifey and I with Farhan and Nisaa

Later, we adjourned to the Old Town White Coffee at Jaya One to meet up and have sahur with Liverpool Babe, Rainmaker, Spena, Gemgem, and Bro Rina. It was a good outing that lasted 5 hours.

Gemgem talking about his virginity to Spena and Rina
Gemgem talking about his compromised virginity to Rina and Spena

Nasi Lemak Special at Old Town White Coffee
Old Town’s Nasi Lemak Special

The very next day, after berbuka at home with Wifey, Rainmaker, and Spena, we were asked to join Thebo and husband for supper at SS2 Murni. Gemgem, Liverpool Babe, and Bro Rina joined us as usual.

Liverpool Babe, Thebo and Husband
Liverpool Babe with Thebo and husband

Wifey's Mee Raja
Wifey’s Mee Raja

On the 10th, I went for a meeting with Gemgem at the Havana Club discussing some serious issues (for once!) before heading to the KFC outlet in Wangsa Maju for a farewell supper for Gombak4Life who was tasked to bring a certain typhoon to Taiwan for a month at least. For the first time we saw Liverpool Babe with a sad face.

Cuban cigar with sugarless tea
Cuban cigar with sugarless tea

Husband and wife whacking chicken
Husband and wife whacking chicken

Another berbuka session was held at our favourite haunt, Las Carretas and this session was attended by Bro Rina, Spena, Gemgem, and Liverpool Babe. This was Bro Rina‘s treat for Wifey and I before we head back to JB. As usual, I whacked the BBQ Beef Back Ribs. Oh, to sink my teeth into all that succulent meat again…

Beef nachos
Beef Nachos

BBQ Beef Back Ribs
BBQ Beef Back Ribs

On the 13th, I went to say goodbye to my kids before heading out to Savor Jaya in Genting Highlands for a farewell do for Trisha.

Nisaa and I
Nisaa and I

Wifey, Douglas, Trisha and I
Wifey, Douglas (Savor Jaya’s proprietor), Trisha and I

After that we left for Mersing and subsequently Tioman. Bro Rina and Spena convoyed with us from home, and we had sahur at a mamak joint in Kluang.

Yokohama a/l Appalasamy
This mamak’s name is Yokohama a/l Appalasamy

Spena's Nasi Goreng Kampung
Spena’s Nasi Goreng Kampung

We boarded the 6.30am ferry bound for Tioman. The rest slept before I did.

All asleep
All fell asleep before departure

Wifey doing something naughty
I wished then that Wifey was doing something more than just putting her head on my lap..haha!

I took Spena for a wreck dive at Roger Wreck. We did a shore dive, swimming out from Dive Asia to the buoy marking the location of the wreck, some 400 meters out. It was an excellent dive for both of us. It was Spena‘s first wreck dive. And oh…MK was there too…hahaha!

Spena checking out the wreck
Spena checking out the wreck

Roger Wreck
Spena checking out the wreck

Later, while waiting for berbuka, Wifey and I enjoyed the sunset, followed by a beautiful evening post-dinner.

Wifey and I enjoying the sunset
Wifey and I enjoying the sunset

Salang Jetty at night
Salang Jetty at night

We had an excellent seafood dinner, with excellent company. Wifey and I feel that there has to be a repeat of this.

BBQ squids and Groupers
BBQ squids and Groupers with air asam

Food!!!
Ayam Chilli, Kailan Ikan Masin, and Taugeh Ikan Masin

This Ramadhan month will go down as the best in a long, long time. I have not enjoyed Ramadhan this much since I was in primary school. What more having the person I truly love by my side.

A Rap On The Knuckle – A Time To Unbuckle

I never thought I’d touch on politics again.

Ahmad Ismail’s gotten off with a 3-year membership suspension. Mild by my standards. He ought to have been kicked out of the party for uttering nonsense in a speech during the Permatang Pauh by-election.

51 years after we got our independence from the British, we are still looking at ourselves based on the colour of our skin, and the religion we embrace. Seriously, I do not understand how this ‘KeTuanan Melayu’ thing came about. I never heard of it when I was schooling. Nor can I understand the need for vernacular schools in Malaysia after 51 years. I can also not understand why do national schools have ‘doa selamat’ programs or have banners outside the schools saying, “Ya Allah! Berikanlah kami hidayah agar dapat melangsungkan peperiksaan UPSR dengan jayanya!” when there is not one banner for the followers of other religions who go to the same school. Why do some Sarawakians still refer to those from the Peninsular as ‘orang Malaya’ and why is ‘Sabah for Sabahans’?

What is wrong with Malaysia after 51 years?

For the life of me, Ahmad Ismail should be slapped with at least the Sedition Act against him, if not the ISA itself. Maybe because he ‘has the support of 13 Penang UMNO divisions’ that the party’s President daren’t do anything more than just rapping the former’s knuckle. That kind of speech should not even be allowed to exist after 13th May 1969.

The Malays can only become ‘Tuan’ if they play on level playing fields and succeed. As a malay who took not a single sen of the government’s money to study, and gave 9 years of his life serving and defending the country, I have the right to say this. The malays have become lazy, ultra-dependant on government subsidies and other assistance, that when you take away this lollipop, they get angry and cry foul. Seriously, they should also think of the taxpayers who are not just malays, and deserve the same chance in getting scholarships, places in universities, and what-nots. After almost four decades of being spoonfed, the malays should learn to crawl and subsequently walk on their own two feet.

Vernacular schools should be abolished if you want a successful Bangsa Malaysia. Vernacular schools are no different to race-based political parties. I would rather have the major languages spoken in Malaysia to be taught as subjects in the national schools so everyone can speak the same language. Therefore we will no longer find jobs adverts in the papers saying things like “Must be able to speak Mandarin.” How many malays and Indians speak Mandarin? On top of that, the Agama subject should also include other religions, to be learnt by ALL races. We should remember that God created us all differently so we can learn from each other; not fight each other. We can do the two (language and religion) without having to demote Bahasa Malaysia and Islam as the country’s official language and religion.

I love the statements made by the Chief of Armed Forces and the Deputy Inspector-General of Police, telling the government to take action against those who incite racial hatred through political statements. Read between the lines, people. It is almost 1983 again.

It is sad to see that after 51 years, we still maintain the mentality of the British colonialists – divide and rule. Somehow we have forgotten the shield, the coat-of-arms that we normally see. The one with the two tigers and that ribbon below saying: BERSEKUTU BERTAMBAH MUTU – UNITY IS STRENGTH. If we still look at ourselves as Malays, Indians, Chinese, Muslims, Christians, Hindus…we are doomed to fail.

Don’t tell me you have not been warned.

Kita Bertemu Kembali, Wahai Kawan-Kawan

95.

Kilogram, okay?

Itu berat aku semalam yang aku timbang semasa berpuasa dan belum melepas bom (bak kata arwah HM Busra dalam cerita Nujum Pak Belalang). Walau bagaimanapun, aku masih jauh dari berat aku sekitar awal tahun 2003 – 103 kilogram. Tetapi, bak slogan British Rail (kini dikenali sebagai National Rail) suatu masa dahulu, “We’re getting there.”

Asal berjumpa aje mesti makan. Baru berbuka, lepas tu boleh pergi lepak melantak lagi. Dah lah di JB kerja kitorang melantak aje. Sejak balik KL ni tak putus-putus melantak sambil bertemu sahabat handai yang memang makan pandai.

Food!!!
Juadah berbuka untuk 7th September 2008

Big Eaters
Geng Kuat Makan

Mendengar BS Syahmi
Anak-anak aku mendengar cerita merepek Forlorn Soldier

Berbuka dengan anak-anak
Berbuka puasa dengan anak-anak

Nasi Lemak Special
Akibat berjumpa dengan kawan-kawan, aku terpaksa makan nasi lemak

Kawan-kawan berjumpa
Apa merepek la diorang ni?

Mee Raja
Mee Raja…tengok itu udang!!!

Geng kuat makan
Geng Kuat Makan


Sampah sarap peninggalan geng kuat makan

Yang aku tau gaji Indah Water bulan ni memang halal la…

Old Skool

I’m writing this as I watch the Formula One Belgian Grand Prix at the Spa-Francochamps track, and I can say one thing about the pitgirls here: straight from the pits of hell they must have come. Wifey is busy making cookies with her friend in the kitchen.

Cookies in the oven

I love my notebook now. It has just undergone a process the India Indian engineers at my former workplace call ‘Upgradation’ (kepala pungkoq mak pak hangpa – what the fork is ‘Upgradation’?) running on a 2GB RAM compared to the preinstalled 512MB RAM previously. Don’t laugh at me la, Countloon and Kimi. Cipet!

It has also been a good weekend. Wifey and I have had the kids (mine and hers) in one place, and we had good friends over for berbuka puasa last night, and today we had berbuka at my close friend’s place in turn.

Wifey the Chef

Wifey was back in her ‘Chef Mode’ preparing Rendang Hati and Paru, and Nasi Lemak, while friends brought a potpourri of bingeing stuff. We had Gombak4Life, Liverpool Babe, Oja and hubby, Neomesuff and hubby, Hana, Rainmaker, Syed Gemgem Odorono Corleone al-Lysha, Spena, and Brother Rina. We had Qiammullail at the house that ended with sahur at around 4am before everyone went home.

Bingeing

Today, we had berbuka at my old friend Nad’s house and we were joined by the Forlorn Soldier and his family. I last saw Nad on the first day of Hari Raya, the most painful one for me, at Forlorn Soldier’s house, just a couple of hours before I left KL to nurse my broken heart by going diving at the Perhentians. Nad and I go back a long way, even before he got his eldest, Karl Rafique. Incidentally, today is Karl’s 20th birthday, and that little baby I used to babysit has already played a few gigs at the No Black Tie.

My kids listening to the Forlorn Soldier's hogwash

Yes, I am that old. Thebo72 mentioned something about old terms such as Baju Disco, Kasut Disco, when people have replaced the term ‘Disco’ with ‘Club’ and to go to a disco is simply called going clubbing nowadays. Back in the mid-80s when I was a serving officer, going clubbing would mean going to a disco to literally club other people’s head and start a free-for-all just for fun. Now the term has taken a sissified meaning.

Nad and I used to hang out at places such as Club Oz, Tin Mine (later TM2), Faces, Phase Two, 11LA, 10 Kia Peng, and our last hangout was at the Brannigans. Mention those names to the youngsters nowadays and you’ll get strange looks; much like how I would look at people who mention names like BB Park, Bamboo Inn, Pertama Cabaret, Jubilee Park, so on and so forth. Well, Pertama Cabaret and Jubilee Park used to have striptease shows there right until 1976 or 1977 the most before such shows were banned, and men nowadays get a hardon if they see women wearing lipstick, or hear the clicking sounds made by a pair of high-heeled shoes. Somehow I think there are more perverts in this country than there were back in the 1970s. And more kids get fingers and whole limbs blown off by home-made firecrackers now compared to the 1970s when we played real fireworks and shoot bamboo cannons back at my late maternal grandparents’ home in Pahang.

In 1976, months after the passing of the 2nd Prime Minister, Tun Abdul Razak, his son, Jay (now Datuk Nazir Razak, Group CEO of CIMB Berhad) and I used to go ice-skating at the Asiajaya complex. The following year, when Sungai Wang Plaza had its own ice-skating rink, I would go there almost every Saturday night because it would be turned into a huge disco, and we would all be dancing to the tunes from the movie ‘Saturday Night Fever.’ However, my first introduction to disco songs was back in 1975 when the song ‘The Hustle’ hit the charts. Then we had songs like Play That Funky Music, Fly Robin Fly, Ojah Awake, Boogie Nights and others. Of course, my favourite mushy song then was ‘You Light Up My Life’ by Debbie Boone. Of course you cannot beat the sounds by the Brothers Gibbs (Bee Gees) and their youngest, the late Andy Gibb, with his song, Shadow Dancing.

How I miss those good old days…literally good, compared to the days we have now. Life is much more complex nowadays, sometimes unnecessarily.

Gosh, it is 3am already…when is the wife going to be done?

Wifey's Cookie

I, The Fortuitous Diver

Once in a while I will come out with weird words, some that could probably have made Wifey fall for me, some she’d laugh at. She’d laugh at me whenever I use terms such as, “I’m negotiating a bend right now”, or, “I’m cross with you”. Fortuitous is what I am when it comes to diving. Nevermind its meaning; this posting may sound like it is filled with grandiloquence but, really, I do not converse like that in real life. Let that be a denouement for that paragraph.

It was July 1982 when my family traveled to Kuantan, where we stayed at the former Merlin Hotel, Teluk Chempedak for one night before making our way to the Tanjung Gelang Naval Base to board the Marine Police’s PZ-class fast patrol boat, KPD Lang Kuik (PZ4 – now in the inventory of the Coast Guard) for Pulau Tioman. As we passed Pulau Tulai, I remember sitting in the Captain’s seat listening to my Walkman; and the song that played was Christopher Cross’ “Sailing.”

When the PZ had longsided at the Merlin Tioman jetty (now the Berjaya Tioman jetty at Tekek), the captain of the PZ, then DSP Michael Lee, asked me if I knew how to swim. I told him I was a school-swimmer (I swam for the state a month later, and became a lifeguard at year’s end). So, he told me that he’d be taking me scuba-diving later that evening. I seriously thought that that was a form of badinage, since despite his reputation, he seemed like an affable person.

My father left in a PSC-class speedboat (nicknamed ‘Trojan’) for a fishing trip, while I, wearing a t-shirt and swimming trunks, donned a J-valve tank with nothing more than a harness, one second stage, a depth gauge and no air gauge nor a BCD, and off Michael Lee and I went…diving. A quick instruction above water on how to equalise and what toggle to yank should I suddenly run out of air, and we descended on the west side of Pulau Renggis, going down to 80 feet (about 24 meters). We speared two large Trevallies, bumped into a couple of Blacktip Reef Sharks that followed us throughout the dive. That was when I also bumped into what I now know as the Green Sea Turtle that I hitched a ride on by holding onto the edge of its shell. Of course, I wouldn’t do either activity anymore: Tioman is now a gazetted marine park, and I don’t ride on turtles anymore.

Doing a decompression stop at 4.5 meters
Doing a decompression stop at 4.5 meters

I did three dives on that trip, returning to Kuantan, and subsequently KL, the next day. I never dived again until 1992 when I was in the military, and carried on diving until 1995, stopping when I left the service. I only pursued scuba-diving as a hobby back in 2005.

So, that, my friends, was how I became a fortuitous diver.

Ready to dive