At times like this great explorers come up with quotes that will echo through the halls of history, marking a moment as o­ne to be remembered for generations to come. "One small step for man, etc." The best I came up with was, "Gurgle, gurgle, choke, spit, ok let’s do it."

At that "historic" moment I was bobbing o­n surface of the small bay of Lungtung, just south of Keelung o­n a clear blue June morning. It was the first ocean dive of my PADI (Professional Association of Diving Instructors) open water scuba course. Here I was, 45 minutes outside of Taipei, finally doing the o­ne thing I’ve wanted to do since childhood—excluding that fantasy involving a young Barbara Bach. I was feeling a bit like Neil Armstrong must have as he prepared to exit his space capsule to leave the first human footprint o­n the moon. Actually, sheathed as I was in several pounds of lead weights, tight neoprene wetsuit, inflatable buoyancy vest and air tanks, I was feeling a little more like an overstuffed sausage than someone about to embark o­n an adventure into the great deep unknown.

My scuba instructor, Mark, gave the signal and I and 10 other dive enthusiasts, both veterans and "newbies" like myself, opened the exhaust valves o­n our BCDs—that’s buoyancy control device to those of you taking notes—and began our descent.

Five minutes later it felt like someone was driving ice picks into my eardrums and my mask was slowly filling with a dark, reddish mystery fluid. It seems I forget to equalize the pressure in my ears before I felt the "squeeze" several tons of water pressing in o­n me. Also, for those of you still taking notes, it is worth remembering that o­ne should not scrunch the nose too vigorously at depth when clearing said ears, which has been known to result in the previously mentioned "mystery fluid."

In spite of the brief pain and a little blood in my mask, I was in a state of pure bliss. Fellow divers had warned me not to expect to see too much diving at Lungtung, that it was "nothing special" o­n the dive site rating scale. However, from the moment I ducked below the waves I was pleasantly surprised to find myself surrounded by schools of neon-tinged tropical fish. Small knots of squid hovered just below the surface and a multitude of crabs scuttled in the boulder-strewn shallows. This was not quite the aquatic wasteland I expected.

Those considering earning their scuba certification need not wait until they can steal away to a beach resort in Thailand or the Philippines. There are several fine dive shops in Taipei area and other major cities throughout the island; many staffed with individuals who speak English. And here is the big secret: Taiwan is currently o­ne of the cheapest countries in Asia for taking dive courses. Most dive centers offer certification courses for NT$5,000-8,000. Compare this price to the NT$7,000-10,000 o­ne is likely to pay for open water certification in Thailand or the Philippines and o­ne gets some idea of the bargains that can be had o­n the home front. Courses usually last o­ne week and involve approximately five confined water (pool) dives and four open water (ocean) dives.

Many Taipei and Keelung area dive schools stage their open water dives in Lungtung for its proximity and favorable conditions. It’s a shore dive, which means you have to scramble over a few rocks and the waterside cement fishponds, no small task when climbing in and out of the water laden with all that gear. The area can also be quite crowded o­n weekends, but the Taipei dive crowd is a friendly lot, so you can use the opportunity to make some new acquaintances. If you are not ready for the full Monty—dive course, gear and all those complicated pressure tables—Lungtung makes a suitable destination for weekend snorkeling trips and the surrounding rocks are favored by local climbers.

But for me, the inky depths are where life gets interesting. At Lungtung you will find a respectable assortment of marine life: angelfish, shrimp, trigger fish, puffers; I even happened upon a small moray eel. Don’t, however, expect to encounter the large specimens of marine fauna you regularly find in the Philippines or Malaysia. Heavy fishing pressure and loss of habit from development and pollution have taken their toll o­n the number and size of many local species at the northern end of the island.

The coral at Lungtung has suffered the most. Dead skeletal clumps hint at what may o­nce have been a beautiful undersea garden. In places, small rainbow-hued colonies of polyps struggle to get a foothold and stage a comeback.

Sadly, local divers must shoulder some of the blame for the declining conditions. Numerous times I spotted members of my own dive group holding o­nto coral heads for support or scavenging any colorful shell—inhabited or not—or piece of coral they could stuff into their mesh bags. My attempts to encourage them to put their bags to better use o­n the few beer cans and the other man-made detritus littering the bottom was met with confused amusement.

Of course, Lungtung represents o­nly the tip of the "reef" for diving in Taiwan. Better locations abound. Particularly of note are Green and Orchid Islands—both accessible from Taitung—as well as Kenting. Green Island and Kenting both have local dive operations, but divers wishing to arrange a trip to Orchid Island will have to do so through a center in Taitung. All three sites receive high marks from divers-in-the-know, some rating them above many of Asia’s better-known scuba destinations for abundance of marine flora and fauna.

It never fails to amaze me how some expats sit in their Taipei flats bemoaning the fact that there are so few outdoor activities to enjoy in Taiwan. Nothing can be further from the truth. It just takes a little research and initiative to begin exploring what this island has to offer, above and below the waves.

For individuals wishing to take their PADI course in Taipei, I can recommend Sea Castle Diving Center. The owner, Mark Lo, can be reached at 2368-9492. The center is located at 168 Shih Ta Rd. in Taipei.