The hundreds of islands ooze limestone as if a child of God tentatively created them with a handful of wet sand, slowly allowing the silica drip to pass through dainty fingers. The finished result is breathtaking, hundreds of limestone sandcastles that breathe purpose and tranquility.

This is the land of the gods, a prehistoric land with a kaleidoscope of water hues and surprising sea caves.

There is serenity in the people, the language, and the scenery.

Koh Phi Phi Le is well known as the location for the film “The Beach.” Released in 1999, the movie highlights the scenery of this island, in particular Maya Bay. While the landscape is still incredible, the area is overgrown with long tails and tourist boats. The large speedboats are packed so tightly onto the shoreline that only a foot of space remains between them.

Thousands of tourists crowd the beautiful beach of silica sand and clear turquoise water. It is unfortunate to see no regulation over how many boats are permitted in the area, as the thousands of people tend to take away from the natural beauty. In order to miss the masses, go extremely early or late in the afternoon.

Later we grab a mooring off Koh Phi Phi Don, the bigger island just north of Phi Phi Le. After a morning of snorkeling and adventuring my body is craving a nap, yet Dad is saying something about sea cave free diving. Not one to turn down a new adventure, I find myself jumping back into the water and heading towards a blow hole bursting fine mist into the air.

We ride the rush of cool blue water into the first cavern, clutching waterproof flashlights in callused hands. Dad takes my friend Tommy into a passage crowded with dark surging water. Will and I hang back as my flashlight suddenly loses it’s charge. We decide to wait, not willing to brave the surging darkness without a light to guide us. After a few moments Tommy comes bursting through the passageway with my Dad in tow behind him. Apparently the first cave had barely two inches of air to breathe and a fierce current added terror to the pitch black. Tommy breathes a sigh of relief, saying he had accepted certain death.

Following a Barto can be risky business.

Dad motions us to the left of the cavern where the water continues to heave in the mid tide. After a few moments of discussion Dad dives down and disappears within seconds. Tommy turns to me and asks, “Are you really following him down there?”

I stick my head in the water, observing the small ray of light from the waterproof flashlight, about twenty yards ahead into the next cavern. Having not experienced the same near death experience as Tommy, I turn to him and say a simple, “Yea!”

I fill my lungs with air and dive down into the next passage way. I beat my blue fins almost mechanically and seep in the sensation of swimming underwater. There is no noise, only a limitless freedom supporting my forward inertia. I don’t even use up all my air before I’m ascending into the next cavern. Dad greets me enthusiastically as I drink in the surrounding scenery.

The cavern is bigger than the last and also much calmer. The water only surges slightly, yet we hear the crescendo of water forcefully sealing and releasing air pressure. My eardrums equalize every few moments to adjust to the continuously thunderous change in pressure. The water is a brilliant turquoise blue as light from another cavern reveals a path towards the exit.

Will and Tommy emerge a few moments later. With flashlights in tow we begin to dive deeper into the cavern. The experience is almost eerie as the light finds multiple layers of rock pierced with dark openings. A school of fish watches us calmly as it drifts into a vertical tunnel formation, emulating an underwater tornado.

These caverns feel like uncharted territory, as if few humans have braved the tide to explore their own curiosity.

I dive down further and flip over with my back facing the sea floor. I swim slowly and notice pockets of air revealing additional caverns to discover.

Nature glimmers in her true self when we are vigilant.