Buggies are the major means of transportation at Vommuli. [Photo by Zhao Xu and Feng Tianyi/China Daily]

(Whenever I thought of the name Vommuli, the word voluminous thrust itself into my mind, to which one might add that the two things that appear in the most generous volumes there are faintly salted sea air and the color blue.)

One of the first obvious temptations after you arrive may be to go out for a dip into the cobalt-colored sea, but once you have lounged around outside for just a few minutes you are likely to change your mind. It's hot outside, so hot that posing for a picture under direct sunlight seemed like an act of self-denial in the cause of pictorial art. Between 12:00 am and 3:00 pm it is better to simply gaze at the blue from the coolness of your hotel room.

A high point of my four-day stay in the Maldives came the day before our group left Vommuli. We got on a speedboat and went out snorkeling and dolphin watching. One time to watch the dolphins was before sunset, and we did so after the snorkeling. As shrieks erupted from among us, I strained my seriously shortsighted eyes. There, from the glistening surface of the water, a black fin jutted out. The dolphins barely leapt, disappearing almost at the same moment as they appeared, making short curves with their slick backs.

The sea parted at the stem of our boat before remerging at its stern. The leaden waves, with white foam on top, reminded me of the petrified sea in that famous Japanese woodcut print The Great Wave of Kanagawa by Katsushika Hokusai. The dipping sun cast a wide streak of burnt orange across the water, intensifying the drama that is not often associated with the Maldivian sea.

According to the locals who work at St. Regis Vommuli, the sea in this part of the world is extremely calm, and indeed the only time they have seen it throw a tantrum was when the devastating Indian Ocean tsunami struck 12 years ago.