A warm sea, sunbeams piercing the depths of blue water, tracing intricate patterns on everything they touch. A vertical wall of hard corals, soft corals, branching corals, and every variety in between dissolves into the abyss. There is no bottom — only the backs of small reef sharks drifting through the blue. Along the reef wall, here and there, small alcoves appear like theatre boxes, and nestled inside them are the regulars: turtles.
Some of them, without lifting an eyelid, sleep on through the midday hours. Others reluctantly slide off their perch and glide lazily downward, upward, or along the wall. And then there are those with rather less zen dispositions, who burst off at full throttle into the blue and pull alongside us to wait for their moment — their chance to reclaim a favourite spot.
At some point a thought occurs: how many turtles can I count from right here, without drifting from my position? Two ahead, one below, three tucked into crevices, and four more — no, five — floating through the water column alongside me in a gentle drift. Eleven in total. Wait — I'm underwater, I'm in their world, and I forgot to look up. Above me, two more are circling in a slow ritual dance.
This is no fairy tale, and it is no dream — forgive me for borrowing the phrase — this is the island of SIPADAN. :)
Turtles are in danger across our planet, but — thankfully — not here. Malaysia, the nation to which this island belongs, introduced visitor quotas many years ago to protect this gem, and added a deterrent in the form of a USD 120 per-person daily levy. In a world of developed Sapiens, there is simply no other way.
For Malaysia, Sipadan is what Cocos Island is to Costa Rica, Malpelo to Colombia, or the Galápagos to Ecuador. It is a truly unique corner of the world. Without exaggeration, this place has the highest density of turtles per cubic metre of water on the entire planet. They are undoubtedly the signature attraction here — but they are far from the whole story.
Here you encounter cascading walls of big-eye trevally and tornadoes of barracuda. Cruising steadily along the reef in permanent formation is a whole squadron of plump, hump-headed parrotfish — some so well-fed they are the size of a double bass. And the best part: they are utterly fearless, letting you gaze at them at close range and even tempting you to reach out and touch — though we restrained ourselves as best we could. Well-mannered divers, we are. :)
All our dives around the island take place in smooth, gentle — I would say ideal — currents, the kind where you can switch off your fins and simply glide, long and languid as a fish, along beautiful sheer drop-offs and sprawling coral formations. Now and then you nudge a fin to steer or brake, to linger over something worth a closer look. Time flies like the wind out here, and before you know it the pressure gauge needle has dropped into the red below 50 bar — time to head up. A shame, but what can you do. That, in brief, is diving around this miraculous island.
I will admit I have been lucky: this is my third return to these waters. And each time, I stay at the Sipadan Mabul Resort. It has a warm, homely feel to it — welcoming and comfortable. The staff and dive guides are unfailingly polite, attentive, and genuinely caring.
You can fly here year-round, but the best visibility of the year — as the locals say, and as I have confirmed for myself on two occasions — falls in April, May, and June.
Sipadan lies in the eastern part of the state of Sabah. The island is uninhabited — aside from the national park administration, there is no one there at all. Nearby sit two smaller islands, Mabul and Kapalai, which are home to the resorts for visitors and divers. You can dive around those islands too, but the experience differs considerably from Sipadan.
The reef here drops to 12–15 metres, then gives way to a sandy bottom that would otherwise be rather barren. But enterprising resort operators have built artificial reefs from whatever materials were at hand; over time these have become encrusted with coral and attracted residents — mostly macro life. There is plenty to delight lovers of macro critters, day or night: curious nudibranchs, leaf fish, frogfish, micro cuttlefish, eels, and much, much more. So in this place you have three islands but two entirely different worlds, each full of discoveries.
The journey from home is a long one, though quite comfortable. First you fly to the country's capital, Kuala Lumpur. If this is your first time in Malaysia, I strongly recommend stopping here for a couple of days. Beautiful parks, excellent restaurants, historic neighbourhoods, and a remarkable blend of religions and cultures. Feed the monkeys, watch fireflies light up the river, photograph the birds, and climb to the top of a skyscraper.
From there, a local airline will carry you to the town of Tawau. A short bus ride later you reach the pier, where a speedboat whisks you off to the island and the beautiful Sipadan Mabul Resort.
While the world was battling a virus, the resort owners were busy sprucing up their already charming property. A curious detail: of all the guests during our stay, we were the only pale-faced visitors — everyone else at the hotel was Malaysian. As a result, the welcome we received was not just warm but positively hot. Malaysians rarely dive, which meant we were able to secure the coveted Sipadan dive permits every single day.
We made the most of that — and we heartily recommend you do the same!
Look for our upcoming Sipadan trips in the travel schedule on our website!
