Teluk Kemang - eight miles from Port
Dickson town, is a very popular holiday
spot. The beach is covered with lovely white
sand and the sea is usually calm and inviting
here. Furthermore the water's edge does
not change appreciably during low and high
tides. So a bather does not have to wade far
to get to a decent depth.
Come Sundays and holidays, the beach is
packed to capacity. This Sunday is no
different. When I arrive by car with a group
of friends, I have to hunt high and low for a
parking space. After some time I find one a
few hundred meters from the beach. We do
not complain for we are lucky to find one.
In double-quick time we are in the sea,
swimming to and fro and generally having a
good time. From the water I can see
throngs of people on the beach. Some are
standing, some are sitting while the rest
walk leisurely around. Some children are
making sand-castles and a couple of white
bodies are spread out on the beach,
presumably sun-bathing. Too bad for them,
the sun is hidden behind black clouds.
Black clouds! The thought suddenly occurs
to me that it is going to rain. As if in direct
response to my thoughts, the rain comes,
thick and furious. I can feel the sting of the
raindrops falling on my bare shoulders. The
sea seems to boil under the incessant
onslaught of falling raindrops. I can see the
bathers, including me, crouching down as
low as we can get into the water to avoid
the painful drops.
Through the blurring rain, I see people on
the beach rushing madly for shelter. Most
of the holiday-makers who come here are in
their best Sunday clothes. They have no
intention of swimming. These people are
mainly harried city workers who come here
to join in the happy Sunday atmosphere.
However this Sunday is not for them. Soon
most of them who do not find shelter quick
enough are soaked to the skin - their
clothes, hairdo, makeup and all thoughts of
a cheery holiday ruined by the relentless
rain. They huddle remorsefully under
whatever shelter that are available - in the
stalls, in the hotels, under the huge trees, in
the bus. Some bravely stand in the rain with
their umbrellas. What a pathetic sight they
present. The beach is completely deserted.
The souvenir pedlars are more prepared for
the rain for they cover their wares quickly
and effectively with plastic sheets. It is
obvious that they have had a lot of practice
The speed-boats that take holiday-makers
for a ride around the bay for a fee are idle.
The drivers sit forlornly in the boats, waiting
for the rain to stop.
Those of us in the sea carry on with our fun.
The feeling of getting caught in the rain
while in the sea is quite invigorating. Water,
water everywhere and enough for anyone
to drink. All he has to do is to open his
mouth, above the sea that is.
Eventually I can feel the waves becoming
larger and the wind stronger. In a few
minutes swimming becomes impossible as
the waves become huge and angry and the
wind begins to get cold. I signal to my
friends to get out.
Emerging from the warm sea into the cold
driving rain is like stepping from a warm
bed into a refrigerator. We shiver
uncontrollably. So we run to the car. It is so
wonderful to be inside the warm car but
what a mess we make inside the car; sand,
water and salt everywhere. I will have to
clean the car when I get home.
When I start the engine to move off, I can
see buses and cars leaving the beach. It
seems like these people have decided to go
home too. Judging from the intensity of the
storm, I reckon it will carry on for a few
hours. There is no point hanging around.
Still there are many stubborn
holidaymakers braving the pouring rain,
waiting for the rain to go away till the
seaside becomes cheery and sunny once
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