ON 3 FEBRUARY 2025, we bid farewell to a man who was more than a colleague, mentor, and friend—Zulfigar Yasin, whom many endearingly called Prof. Zul. At just 65, he left us too soon, yet the depth of his impact ensures his presence will forever echo through the corridors of science, the gardens of CEMACS and the hearts of all who knew him. For those unfamiliar with his legacy, Prof. Zul was the very embodiment of excellence, grace and brilliance. And for those of us fortunate enough to walk alongside him—as students, peers or friends—we knew we were in the presence of someone extraordinary.

I first met Prof. Zul in 1989 when I joined Universiti Sains Malaysia (USM) as a Research Officer. Our paths often crossed, but it was in 1995, when I became his PhD student, that I began to truly understand his depth. Under his guidance, I transformed from someone who couldn’t swim into a diver conducting underwater scientific research. Such was Prof. Zul’s magic: he made you believe in the impossible and then showed you how to achieve it.

Prof. Zul devoted his entire professional life to USM, and even after his retirement, he continued to serve with passion and purpose as an Honorary Professor at the Centre for Marine and Coastal Studies (CEMACS). His dedication to public service extended beyond academia—he also served as a Visiting Senior Analyst at the Penang Institute, where he played a pivotal role in initiating the groundwork for the Middle Bank Marine Sanctuary. His contributions were soon recognised, and he was later appointed Head of the Heritage and Urban Studies Programme at the Institute.

Throughout his remarkable career, Prof. Zul helped shape the fields of marine ecology, coral reef conservation and biodiversity, not only in Malaysia but across the region. While his scholarly contributions were vast and influential, it was his human touch—his humour, kindness, and generosity of spirit, which set him apart.

His story began in earnest in 1988 when he returned from the UK with a PhD in Marine Ecology from the University of Salford. That same year, he began his tenure at USM, quickly making waves—both literally and figuratively—in marine science. He was a scholar with an explorer’s heart, tirelessly pursuing knowledge that could be used to protect our oceans.

Prof. Zul’s leadership as Director of CEMACS was nothing short of visionary. He was not just an administrator—he was the soul of the Centre. He led by example, not from behind a desk but side by side with his team—researchers, staff and even gardeners. His presence was deeply felt in every corner, not only in research but also in the culture of care and curiosity he nurtured.

The gardens he envisioned and tended at CEMACS were more than aesthetic spaces, they were living symbols of his belief that science and nature must coexist in harmony. From the serene Zen Garden, inspired by Kyoto’s Ryoan-ji, to the tranquil Bali Garden with its outdoor shower, and the affectionately nicknamed “Future In-Law Garden,” where one could dip their feet and reflect—each space carried meaning. As he once said in spirit, “Dip your feet, clear your thoughts, and if your heart is true—speak your intention.” These gardens told stories, sparked wonder and reminded us that environmental stewardship begins with love—for land, sea, and each other.

Prof. Zul’s reach extended far beyond local waters. One of the defining moments of his career was leading a three-month marine science expedition to Antarctica in 2002 (see Penang Monthly, October 2024). Harsh, remote and extreme—Antarctica would have deterred many, but not Prof. Zul. He embraced the challenge with fearless enthusiasm, placing Malaysia on the global map of polar research.

He returned with renewed purpose, and soon after, spearheaded the ROSES (Research on the Seas and Islands of Malaysia) Expedition in 2004—a monumental effort to map and document Malaysia’s marine territories, including contested areas. Aboard the Allied Commander, Prof. Zul led 52 scientists across the Straits of Malacca and the South China Sea for 42 days, conducting dives at every site. This bold, unprecedented expedition—planned down to the last detail—was vintage Zulfigar.

Following ROSES, Prof. Zul continued to lead marine expeditions during his attachment at Universiti Malaysia Terengganu. His insights were instrumental in establishing and managing Malaysia’s marine parks and informing Thailand’s marine conservation policies. His reach was regional, yet he remained deeply grounded.

He often said, “Do not start if you are not serious. But if you choose to start, do it properly.” That philosophy drove him and inspired everyone around him to strive for excellence.

What truly set Prof. Zul apart was his devotion to people. He was never too busy for a question, never too important to listen, never too proud to learn. He mentored countless students and colleagues with patience, honesty and unshakable belief in their potential. He didn’t just teach marine ecology—he built a community of ocean stewards. He made people feel seen and valued. His presence lit up every room. His smile was a comfort, his counsel a constant source of reassurance. Though he held strong convictions, he led with gentleness and humility.

Despite his towering accomplishments, Prof. Zul remained deeply human. He spoke often and fondly of his family. He loved his plants, his pets, his music. There was poetry in the way he lived—a quiet symphony of intellect, integrity and joy.

Among his many passions, photography held a special place. He was deeply drawn to the beauty and wonder of the natural world—from sweeping landscapes to the intricate details of marine life. As his assistant during fieldwork and academic travels, I had the privilege of witnessing his dedication behind the lens. He would wake before dawn to catch the morning light on the water or dive at dusk to capture the wonderful world of fluorescent corals. With a keen eye and a patient soul, he would often spend hours waiting for the perfect light or composition, capturing moments that others might overlook. For him, photography was not merely a hobby but a means of connecting with nature, appreciating its subtleties, and sharing its wonders with others. Through his images, he reminded us to slow down, look closer, and never take the world’s beauty for granted.

To me, he was more than a mentor—he was a guide, a guardian, a giant whose shadow gave me shelter and strength. Being his first PhD student was more than an academic milestone; it was a gift. Under his mentorship, I found purpose. He taught me not only how to explore the ocean but also how to explore within. One of his most lasting lessons: “Never stop learning. Always choose something new to learn and enrich yourself.”

Prof. Zul, your influence is forever etched in my heart. I am deeply honoured to have walked this transformative path of growth and discovery under your mentorship. Thank you for the wisdom you so generously shared, for the unwavering support you offered, and for the boundless passion you brought into every endeavour. I will miss your kind words, your steady encouragement, and most of all, that comforting smile—one that always reassured us that everything would be alright. Rest well, Zulfigar Yasin. The ocean sings your name. And we who remain will carry your light forward.