Bajau Laut children flying handmade kites while balancing in their dugouts, the sea their playground and classroom alike.
THE first thing you notice on the journey to Semporna is the slow transformation of the landscape.
As the road winds eastward through Sabah’s lush interiors, the land flattens and the air grows saltier.
The thick jungles give way to oil palms, stilt villages and the Celebes Sea glitter stretching far beyond the horizon.
It feels like you’re approaching the very edge of the world – and in many ways, you are.
Fishing boats return at sunrise to Semporna’s bustling waterfront, where life unfolds to the rhythm of the tides.
Semporna, which means “perfect” in Malay, is a coastal town that seems to float between land and sea, a gateway to some of the most spectacular waters on Earth.
It hums with a rough-edged charm: fishing boats bob along the waterfront, seafood stalls sizzle with the day’s catch and divers from every corner of the globe gear up for the adventures that await offshore.
But the magic of Semporna truly begins when you leave the mainland.
A short boat ride whisks you away into an aquatic paradise – a scattering of islands ringed with bone-white beaches and reefs bursting with life.
A scenic boardwalk leads to serene water chalets, offering a peaceful retreat with panoramic views of Semporna’s pristine coastline.
Sipadan, Mabul, Kapalai and others are names that echo promises to divers and dreamers.
Here, the ocean is a cathedral of colour – tornadoes of swirling barracuda, delicate nudibranchs draped across coral shelves and green turtles gliding lazily beneath sun-streaked waves.
Yet, among all this natural splendour, it is the Bajau Laut people who give Semporna its soul.
Known as the “sea gypsies,” the Bajau Laut are among the last true marine nomads.
For centuries, they have lived almost entirely at sea, migrating between the islands and shoals aboard lepa-lepa – slender wooden boats that serve as both home and vessel.
Their connection to the ocean is not poetic; it is absolute.
In a modest sundry shop, a local woman prepares traditional snacks – reminders of Semporna’s warm hospitality and cultural richness.
Many Bajau children learn to swim before they can walk.
They free-dive to incredible depths, harvesting sea cucumbers, fish and shellfish with little more than a spear and a breath of air.
Indeed, the Bajau Laut are often called the world’s finest natural fishermen.
In a display of breathtaking skill and stamina, Bajau divers slip beneath the surface without modern equipment – no scuba tanks, no masks – relying only on centuries of instinct and training.
With lungs as disciplined as those of pearl divers, they can stay submerged for minutes at a time, some for as long as five minutes, while navigating the labyrinth of coral gardens below.
Underwater, they move like marine creatures themselves, completely at ease.
A Bajau fisherman, armed with a handcrafted wooden spear, will glide through the submerged world with slow, deliberate movements, conserving every ounce of oxygen.
They hunt lobsters, octopuses and reef fish with uncanny precision, often securing their catch with a single, fluid strike.
Watching them from the surface – their bodies reduced to shimmering shadows in the sun-dappled blue – is to witness a dance as old as time.
Their livelihood is as precarious as it is remarkable.
Two Bajau Laut boys armed with home-made spearguns, ready to dive in search of fish in the shallows – skills passed down through generations.
Free-diving day after day takes a toll on their bodies, yet it remains their primary means of survival in a world where access to land and resources is limited by statelessness and circumstance.
Their history is a weave of migration, trade and endurance.
Believed to have originated from the southern Philippines, waves of Bajau people spread through the Sulu Archipelago into Sabah.
Stateless and often without formal citizenship, they exist in the margins – moving across invisible borders drawn by governments but irrelevant to a people whose real homeland is the sea itself.
Visiting the floating villages around Semporna is an encounter with a different world.
Rows of stilt houses teeter above turquoise shallows.
Children paddle between them on makeshift rafts or half-sunken canoes, flashing bright smiles.
Women in vibrant sarong hang fish to dry, while men mend nets under the sweltering sun.
A lone Bajau Laut woman paddles over seagrass meadows, selling fresh coconuts and shellfish from her boat – a floating marketplace on the sea.
At low tide, the sea recedes to reveal gardens of seaweed and starfish beneath the homes, only to return with the rhythm of the tides.
There is hardship here, undeniably.
Life without a nationality means limited access to education, healthcare and stable work.
Yet there is also an enduring resilience – a stubborn beauty to the way the Bajau live, crafting existence from the currents and tides with grace and dignity.
Back in Semporna town, the day’s adventures are best concluded with a feast of seafood, plucked fresh from the ocean.
The waterfront night market is a sensory explosion: the smoke of grilling squid, the crackle of frying prawns, the gleam of slipper lobsters and tiger grouper laid out on ice.
Plates arrive piled high with buttered lobster, spicy sambal clams and sweet, tender crabs – a banquet that tastes of the ocean itself.
As the sun sinks behind the town, painting the sky in molten hues of gold and crimson, you begin to understand why Semporna is so much more than a diving hotspot.
It is a living museum of an ancient maritime culture. It is the stage for the Bajau Laut’s timeless ballet with the sea.
It is a place where beauty and struggle coexist, where stories are written on the waves and sung by the wind.
Visitors come here for the underwater wonders, but they leave with something deeper: a glimpse into a way of life that, though threatened by modernity and politics, still endures with fierce pride and quiet poetry.
In Semporna, the sea is not just a view. It is life itself – endless, restless and achingly beautiful.
