I’ll be honest—I almost stayed in bed that morning.
The sound of rain tapping on the tin roof outside my guesthouse in Sumbawa wasn’t exactly encouraging. It was the kind of drizzle that makes you want to sip coffee and curl up with a book, not jump into the sea with a snorkel and camera.
But something told me to go.
Maybe it was the whisper of adventure. Maybe it was the hope of seeing a whale shark. Maybe it was just the non-refundable booking. Whatever it was, I grabbed my towel, pulled on a damp rash guard, and headed out for what turned out to be the most unexpectedly magical swim of my life.
Gray Skies and Doubt
Our small group met by the dock just as the sky started to shift from midnight blue to stormy silver. There was a quiet tension. We exchanged polite nods, no one really speaking much. The crew was cheerful, but I could tell they were also scanning the skies.
“Still okay,” one of them said with a grin. “Maybe we’re lucky.”
I didn’t feel lucky. I felt wet and sleepy.
But then the boat left shore, slicing through soft waves, and Sumbawa slowly faded behind us like a watercolor painting. Out at sea, it was just us, the rain, and a quiet anticipation.
The First Sign
Roughly 30 minutes in, the rain eased into a soft mist. Visibility was still low, the clouds heavy and unbroken. Everyone had that look—the one where you’re trying to stay hopeful without getting your hopes up.
And then, suddenly, one of the guides pointed over the side and shouted something in Indonesian.
We rushed to the edge.
There it was.
A shadow moving just below the surface. Long. Gentle. Effortless. A whale shark.
I forgot the gray sky. Forgot the drizzle on my face. Forgot everything except the fact that I was about to swim next to the biggest fish in the ocean.
Slipping Into the Sea
The water was cooler than I expected. Not cold, just… alive. It wrapped around me as I slid off the boat, and I instantly felt awake. Every sense switched on.
I adjusted my mask, took a deep breath, and looked down.
There it was again—the whale shark. Its massive body moved like a slow, spotted submarine. I stayed still, heart pounding, not out of fear, but from something I can only describe as reverence.
This was it. This was the moment every Saleh Bay whale shark tour promises, but nothing ever truly prepares you for it.
Not the photos. Not the YouTube videos. Not the gear or the guides or the brochures.
Just you, in the water, face to face with something ancient, silent, and breathtaking.
A Private Encounter
Because of the rain, not many boats had gone out that morning. That meant we had the ocean nearly to ourselves. No crowds. No chaos. Just calm.
The whale shark didn’t seem to mind us being there. It moved gracefully, feeding near the surface, surrounded by little flickers of silver fish. I floated above, watching, occasionally kicking to adjust my position but mostly just… observing.
There’s something strangely humbling about seeing a creature that big move so gently. It didn’t thrash or bolt or react to our presence. It just swam. As if we were part of the ocean too.
The Rain Adds Its Own Kind of Beauty
The raindrops on the sea’s surface created a mosaic of tiny ripples. I remember surfacing at one point and being struck by how quiet everything was.
No voices. No engines. Just water meeting water, sky meeting sea, and this enormous being moving between them like a dream.
It sounds poetic—and I swear, it really was.
Sometimes I think the rain made it even more special. Like the weather filtered out all distractions and left only the essentials: the water, the whale shark, and us.
Why Sumbawa Is So Special
I’ve been lucky enough to snorkel in a few different parts of the world—Thailand, the Philippines, even the Maldives. But nothing has come close to the feeling I had during that swim in Saleh Bay.
There’s something raw and real about this place. It hasn’t been overrun. It’s still quiet, still sacred.
The whale sharks visit Saleh Bay for a reason: the plankton-rich waters, the peaceful surroundings, and the respectful practices of local guides. Tours here don’t rush the experience. They let it unfold naturally.
And that’s exactly what happened on my rainy morning. No rush. No pressure. Just magic.
Tips If You Ever Find Yourself Here
If you’re lucky enough to take a Sumbawa whale shark tour, especially with unpredictable weather, here are a few things I learned:
1. Go Anyway (Even if It’s Raining)
Rain doesn’t always mean bad visibility or rough waters. Sometimes it keeps other tourists away and gives you a more intimate experience.
2. Float More, Kick Less
The less you move, the more natural your interaction will be. Let the whale shark come to you—or at least let it swim by without chasing.
3. Keep Your Mask Clear
Fogging can ruin the moment. Use anti-fog drops or even a quick rub of baby shampoo beforehand.
4. Don’t Focus on the Camera
It’s tempting to get the perfect shot, but the best memories aren’t always captured digitally. Some of my favorite moments from that swim live only in my head.
A Moment I’ll Never Forget
At one point during the swim, the whale shark passed directly below me—so close I could’ve reached out (but didn’t). I held my breath, tilted my head, and watched it glide into the blue.
Right then, the rain started again—soft at first, then heavier.
But underwater, it was silent. Peaceful. Almost like time slowed down just for us.
When I climbed back onto the boat, soaked and smiling, one of the crew handed me a hot cup of sweet coffee. I sat on the edge, dripping wet, mask still in my hand, and just stared at the sea.
The sky was still gray. But everything inside me was glowing.
More Than a Tour
That day wasn’t about the weather or the photos or the checklist of things to do in Sumbawa. It was about something deeper. A connection. A surprise. A lesson in surrendering to nature’s timing.
And honestly? I’m glad the sky was gray that morning.
Because the ocean gave us something even more colorful than a sunrise.