Embarking the speed boat for an afternoon of snorkeling and dolphin-watching. [Photo by Zhao Xu and Feng Tianyi/China Daily]

But that does not mean they are oblivious to nature's majesty and power. Ahmed Asim, a Maldivian and the hotel's room director, said that since childhood his parents have always told him not to swim at high tide or when it is raining.

"As Maldivians, we all know when not to go swimming, just as we all know how to swim."

And as someone who cannot swim, my fear－and the hot weather－prevented me from going into the ocean until the third morning of my arrival at Vommuli. With my life vest keeping me afloat and a security guard of the hotel standing by watching, I battled the barely visible waves, flipped when the merest ripple hit me and yet managed to kid myself that finally this city girl long denied nature's loving embrace was now luxuriating in her lap.

Right below the surface were sprawling coral fields, sadly all dead due to the construction of the villas. However, even as dead remnants they are a haven for small fish whose jolt of vivid blue is penetrating, and unmistakable even for someone who did not know how to put her head under the surface while swimming with that chunky life vest.

The same day I learned, with the help of a coach, how to breathe while wearing a snorkeling mask. In fact, the moment that I took off my thick glasses and put on the mask, everything went blurry. I jumped fearlessly into the immense blue. My friends later talked about seeing swarms of fishes. But for me, it was just endless blue. Sometimes fear dissipates when you cannot see or hear clearly and need to rely on your senses.