The calm sea has fostered thriving coral reefs, home to an incredibly rich array of coral species, marine fauna, and flora. Visitors are likely to encounter manta rays, whale sharks, turtles, and schools of brightly coloured reef fish.
Tioman is also one of the last strongholds of untouched rainforest in the South China Sea. Pulau Tioman has been gazetted as a wildlife reserve, sheltering diverse fauna including the slow loris, binturong, mousedeer, brush-tailed porcupine, and long-tailed macaque.
The man and the sea
Mohd Don Mustapha, 54, stood quietly by the shore, not to sell a tour package or speak of resort accolades but to share a story far more fragile: that of Tioman’s endangered sea turtles.
“I am from here,” he said simply. A local man, born and raised on Tioman Island. “When I was 11 or 12 , I could see 2,000-3,000 baby turtles a week during the season. In an April-August season, this could reach 30,000.”
That was more than four decades ago. Today, he counts himself lucky to see 3,000 in a year.
Faced with the alarming decline, he and his brother decided to act. With no formal training but a lifetime of coastal wisdom, they began a grassroots conservation effort – modest, self-funded, and quietly persistent.
“We are seeking Pahang exco permission to nurture newly hatched turtles. Three to four months will be sufficient to ensure they have a chance of survival when released into the sea,” he explained.
Don currently tends to two turtle species found around Tioman: the green sea turtle (penyu agar) and the hawksbill sea turtle (penyu karah).
Hatchlings, some just four days old, are carefully raised in handmade enclosures near the beach. “Some hatched at 8.30pm yesterday,” he shared.
Visitors are welcome to observe and photograph, but always with care. “You can look and take pictures, but please don’t touch them,” he added gently.
His conservation space, affectionately called Campsite Sekuci, is far from a formal centre. There are no elaborate facilities – just tents, sand, and the will to protect.
“This is not a big conservation centre. This is just a campsite, where we take care of baby turtles,” he said.
What started with two brothers trying to stop eggs from being eaten by monitor lizards and monkeys, or taken by humans, has now gained unexpected traction from the very community that once saw turtle eggs as food.
“Now even the villagers understand. If they come across eggs, they will bury them first. Then they will ask if they have done it correctly. Whenever possible, they will send them to me to be looked after,” he said.
He is at the campsite nearly every day. Although his family lives in Johor Bahru, his heart remains on this beach.
His children
Don switches between calling the hatchlings “anak-anak” and “budak-budak”, showing the deep affection he has for them. Some turtles even have names.
Nine-month-old Jacko will be released when he is ready. Another, Aishah, now seven months old, was released but returned on the same day, climbing straight into his pocket.
“When I released her into the wild, I said, ‘If you want me to take care of you, you come back.’ And Aishah came back,” he recalled fondly.
Why does he do all this, with no funding and no recognition? The goal is not profit, he stressed, but for future generations and the quiet satisfaction of seeing his “children” make it to sea.
There are no signboards here; no corporate campaigns. Just a man, a beach, and the belief that if he does not act, it’s likely no one will.
Through this quiet perseverance, the turtles still come. But given that Visit Malaysia 2026 will undoubtedly bring waves of visitors, these “children” will need the Don Mustaphas in each of us to care for them, in one form or another.