The great white shark, Carcharodon carcharias, also known as great white, white pointer, white shark, or white death, is a large lamniform shark found in coastal surface waters in all major oceans. The great white shark is very well known for its size, with the largest individuals known to have approached or exceeded 6 metres (20 ft) in length and 2,268 kilograms (5,000 lb) in weight. It reaches maturity at around 15 years of age and can have a life span of over 30 years. The great white shark is arguably the world's largest known extant macropredatory fish and is one of the primary predators of marine mammals. It is also known to prey upon a variety of other marine animals including fish, pinnipeds, and seabirds. It is the only known surviving species of its genus, Carcharodon.

The best selling novel Jaws and the subsequent blockbuster film by Steven Spielberg depicted the great white shark as a "ferocious man eater". In reality, humans are not the preferred prey of the great white shark

The IUCN treats the great white shark as vulnerable, while it is included in Appendix II of CITES.

Etymology

Carolus Linnaeus gave the great white shark its first scientific name, Squalus carcharias in 1758. Sir Andrew Smith gave it the generic name Carcharodon in 1833, and in 1873 the generic name was identified with Linnaeus' specific name and the current scientific name Carcharodon carcharias was finalised. Carcharodon comes from the Greek words karcharos, which means sharp or jagged, and odous, which means tooth.

Left: Megalodon tooth with two great white shark teeth and a U.S. quarter for size comparison
Right: A 4 cm tall fossil C. carcharias tooth from Miocene sediments in the Atacama Desert of Chile

Ancestry and fossil record

The great white shark came into existence during the Mid-Miocene epoch The earliest known fossils are about 16 million years old^. However, the phylogeny of the great white is still in dispute^. The original hypothesis for the great white's origins is that it shares a common ancestor with a prehistoric shark, C. megalodon. Similarities among the physical remains and the extreme size of both the great white and C. megalodon led many scientists to believe that these sharks were closely related, and the name Carcharodon megalodon was applied to the latter. However, a new hypothesis proposes that C. megalodon and the great white are distant relatives (albeit sharing the family Lamnidae), and that the great white is more closely related to an ancient mako shark, Isurus hastalis, than to C. megalodon^] In addition, the new hypothesis assigns C. megalodon to the Carcharocles genus, which also comprises other megatoothed sharks, and Otodus obliquus is the ancient representative of the extinct Carcharocles lineage.

Distribution and habitat

White shark at Isla Guadalupe, Mexico

Great white sharks live in almost all coastal and offshore waters which have water temperature between 12 and 24 °C (54 and 75 °F), with greater concentrations in the United States (Atlantic Northeast and California), South Africa, Japan, Australia (especially New South Wales and South Australia), New Zealand, Chile, and the Mediterranean. One of the densest known populations is found around Dyer Island, South Africa where much shark research is conducted.

It is an epipelagic fish, observed mostly in the presence of rich game like fur seals, sea lions, cetaceans, other sharks, and large bony fish species. In the open ocean it has been recorded at depths as great as 1,220 m (4,000 ft). These findings challenge the traditional notion about the great white as being a coastal species.

According to a recent study, California great whites have migrated to an area between Baja California and Hawaii known as White Shark Café, to spend at least 100 days before migrating back to Baja. On the journey out, they swim slowly and dive down to around 900 m (3,000 ft). After they arrive, they change behavior and do short dives to about 300 m (1,000 ft) for up to 10 minutes. Another white shark tagged off the South African coast swam to the southern coast of Australia and back within the year. This refuted traditional theories that white sharks are coastal territorial predators and opens up the possibility of interaction between shark populations that were previously thought to be discrete. Why they migrate and what they do at their destination is still unknown. Possibilities include seasonal feeding or mating.

A similar study tracked a great white shark from South Africa swimming to Australia's northwestern coast and back, a journey of 20,000 km (12,000 mi; 11,000 nmi) in under 9 months.

Anatomy and appearance

A great white shark in profile, from Illustrations of the Zoology of South Africa, published in 1838

The great white shark has a robust large conical snout. The upper and lower lobes on the tail fin are approximately the same size (like some mackerel sharks).

Great whites display countershading, having a white underside and a grey dorsal area (sometimes in a brown or blue shade) that gives an overall "mottled" appearance. The coloration makes it difficult for prey to spot the shark because it breaks up the shark's outline when seen from the side. From above, the darker shade blends with the sea and from below it exposes a minimal silhouette against the sunlight.

Great white sharks, like many other sharks, have rows of serrated teeth behind the main ones, ready to replace any that break off. When the shark bites it shakes its head side to side, helping the teeth saw off large chunks of flesh.

Size

Great white shark allegedly 6.4 metres (21 ft) long and weighing 3,175 kilograms (7,000 lb)

Males reach maturity at 3.5–4.0 metres (11–13 ft), and females at 4.5–5.0 metres (15–16 ft). Adults on average are 4–5.2 metres (13–17.1 ft) long and have a mass of 680–1,100 kilograms (1,500–2,400 lb). Females are generally larger than males. It is widely accepted that the great white shark can approach 6.1 m (20 ft) in length and 1,900 kg (4,200 lb) in weight. However, the maximum size is still subject to hot debate because such reports are often rough estimations or speculations performed under questionable circumstances.

Adaptations

A great white shark swimming

Great white sharks, like all other sharks, have an extra sense given by the Ampullae of Lorenzini, which enables them to detect the electromagnetic field emitted by the movement of living animals. Every time a living creature moves it generates an electrical field and great whites are so sensitive they can detect half a billionth of a volt. Even heart beats emit a very faint electrical pulse. If close enough, the shark can detect even that faint electrical pulse. Most fish have a less-developed but similar sense using their body's lateral line.

Great white shark biting into the fish head teaser bait next to a cage in False Bay, South Africa

To more successfully hunt fast and agile prey such as sea lions, the great white has adapted to maintain a body temperature warmer than the surrounding water. One of these adaptations is a "rete mirabile" (Latin for "wonderful net"). This close web-like structure of veins and arteries, located along each lateral side of the shark, conserves heat by warming the cooler arterial blood with the venous blood that has been warmed by the working muscles. This keeps certain parts of the body (particularly the stomach) at temperatures up to 14 °C (25 °F) above that of the surrounding water, while the heart and gills remain at sea-temperature. When conserving energy the core body temperature can drop to match the surroundings. A great white shark's success in raising its core temperature is an example of gigantothermy. Therefore, the great white shark can be considered an endothermic poikilotherm, because its body temperature is not constant but is internally regulated.

Bite force

A 2007 study from the University of New South Wales in Sydney, Australia, used CT scans of a shark's skull and computer models to measure maximum bite force. The study reveals the forces and behaviors its skull is adapted to handle and resolves competing theories about its feeding behaviour.^[24] In 2008, a team of scientists led by Stephen Wroe conducted an experiment to determine great white shark's jaw power and findings indicated that a specimen more than 6.1 m (20 ft) long could exert a bite force of over 18,000 newtons (4,000 lbf).

Ecology and behavior

A great white shark turns onto its back while hunting tuna bait

This shark's behavior and social structure is not well understood. In South Africa, white sharks have a dominance hierarchy depending on size, sex and squatter's rights: Females dominate males, larger sharks dominate smaller sharks, and residents dominate newcomers. When hunting, great whites tend to separate and resolve conflicts with rituals and displays. White sharks rarely resort to combat although some individuals have been found with bite marks that match those of other white sharks. This suggests that when another shark approaches too closely, great whites react with a warning bite. Another possibility is that white sharks bite to show dominance.

The great white shark is one of only a few sharks known to regularly lift its head above the sea surface to gaze at other objects such as prey; this is known as "spy-hopping". This behaviour has also been seen in at least one group of blacktip reef sharks, but this might be learned from interaction with humans (it is theorized that the shark may also be able to smell better this way, because smell travels through air faster than through water). The white sharks are generally very curious animals, display intelligence and may also turn to socializing if situation demands such At Seal Island, white sharks have been observed arriving and departing in stable "clans" of two to six individuals on a yearly basis. Whether clan members are related is unknown, but they get along peacefully enough. In fact, the social structure of a clan is probably most aptly compared to that of a wolf pack: each member has a clearly established rank, and each clan has an alpha leader. When members of different clans meet, they establish social rank nonviolently through any of a fascinating variety of interactions

Diet

Great white shark off Guadalupe Island, Mexico

Great white sharks are carnivorous, and prey upon fish (e.g. tuna, rays, other sharks), cetaceans (i.e., dolphins, porpoises, whales), pinnipeds (e.g. seals, fur seals, and sea lions), sea turtles, sea otters, and seabirds. Great whites have also been known to eat objects that they are unable to digest. Upon approaching a length of nearly 4 metres (13 ft), great white sharks begin to target predominately marine mammals for food. These sharks prefer prey with a high content of energy-rich fat. Shark expert Peter Klimley used a rod-and-reel rig and trolled carcasses of a seal, a pig, and a sheep to his boat in the South Farallons. The sharks attacked all three baits but rejected the sheep carcass.

Great white sharks' reputation as ferocious predators is well-earned, yet they are not (as was once believed) indiscriminate "eating machines". They are ambush hunters, taking prey by surprise from below. Near the now famous Seal Island, in South Africa's False Bay, shark attacks most often occur in the morning, within 2 hours after sunrise, when visibility is poor. Their success rate is 55% in the first 2 hours, falling to 40% in late morning, after which hunting stops.

Hunting techniques vary by prey species. Off Seal Island the shark ambush cape fur seals from below at high speeds, hitting the seal mid-body. They go so fast that they can completely leave the water. The peak burst speed of these sharks is largely accepted in the scientific community to be above 40 kilometres per hour (25 mph). However further precision is still speculative.^[29] They have also been observed chasing prey after a missed attack. Prey is usually attacked at the surface.

Off California, sharks immobilize northern elephant seals with a large bite to the hindquarters (which is the main source of the seal's mobility) and wait for the seal to bleed to death. This technique is especially used on adult male elephant seals which can be as large or larger than the hunter and are potentially dangerous adversaries. Prey is normally attacked sub-surface. Harbour seals are simply grabbed from the surface and pulled down until they stop struggling. They are then eaten near the bottom. California sea lions are ambushed from below and struck mid-body before being dragged and eaten.

White sharks attack dolphins and porpoises from above, behind or below to avoid being detected by their echolocation. Targeted species include dusky dolphins, Risso's dolphins bottlenose dolphins Humpback dolphins, harbour porpoises and Dall's porpoises.Close encounters between dolphins and predatory sharks often result in evasive responses by the dolphins.^[However, in rare cases, a group of dolphins may chase a single predatory shark away in an act of defense^] White shark predation on some species of whales have also been observed — white sharks often attack and prey upon pygmy sperm whales, Kogia breviceps, in the Mediterranean SeaIn addition, white sharks also attack and prey upon beaked whales.

A beachcomber looking at bite marks from a great white shark

Even though the great whites are known to generally avoid conflicts with each other, the phenomenon of cannibalism is not alien to this species. Large individuals may aggressively interact intraspecifically with small individuals. A 3 m (9.8 ft) long great white shark was nearly bitten into two by a reportedly 6 m (20 ft) long great white shark in Stradbroke Island, near Brisbane in Australia.

White sharks also scavenge on whale carcasses. In one such documented incident, white sharks were observed scavenging on a whale carcass alongside tiger sharks

Reproduction

Little is known about great white shark behaviour in the way of mating habits. Birth has never been observed, but pregnant females have been examined. Great white sharks are ovoviviparous (eggs develop and hatch in the uterus, and continue to develop until birth). The great white has an 11 month gestation period. The shark pup's powerful jaws begin to develop in the first month. The unborn sharks participate in intrauterine-cannibalism: stronger pups consume their weaker womb-mates. Delivery is in spring and summer.

Almost nothing is known about mating behavior. Some evidence points to the near-soporific effect of a large feast (such as a whale carcass) possibly inducing mating.

Great white sharks reach sexual maturity at around 15 years of age. Maximum life span is believed to be more than 30 years. (see "references" below)

Natural threats

Although the great white is typically regarded as an apex predator in the wild, it is in rare cases, preyed upon by the larger orca (also known as a killer whale). Interspecific competition between the great white shark and the orca is probable in regions where dietary preferences of both species may overlap An incident was documented on October 4, 1997 in the Farallon Islands off California - an estimated 4.7–5.3-metre (15–17 ft) female orca immobilized an estimated 3–4-metre (9.8–13 ft) great white shark. The orca held the shark upside down to induce the tonic immobility, and kept the shark still for fifteen minutes, causing it to suffocate and then proceeded to eat the dead shark's liver. Another similar attack apparently occurred there in 2000, but its outcome is not clear. After both attacks, the local population of about 100 great whites vanished. Following the 2000 incident, a great white with a satellite tag was found to have immediately submerged to depth of 500 m and swum to Hawaii. Great whites may have similarly avoided the much larger shark, C. megalodon.

Great white shark between a cage and a boat

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Great White Shark tourism

Putting chum in the water

A great white shark approaches divers in a cage off Dyer Island, Western Cape, South Africa

A great white shark approaches a cage

Their infamous reputation gives sharks great appeal for tourists. While it is safe to dive near sharks of most species, diving with great whites requires great care. One common approach is for divers to stay within a steel cage.

Cage diving is most common off the coasts of Australia, South Africa, and Guadalupe Island off the coast of Baja California, which great whites frequent. Cage diving & swimming with sharks is a focus for a booming tourist industry due to its popularity. A common practice is to chum the water with pieces of fish to attract sharks. These practices may make sharks more accustomed to people in their environment and to associate human activity with food—a potentially dangerous situation. By drawing bait on a wire towards the cage, tour operators lure the shark to the cage, possibly striking it, exacerbating this problem. Other operators draw the bait away from the cage, causing the shark to swim past the divers.

At present, hang baits are illegal off Isla Guadalupe and reputable dive operators do not use them. Operators in South Africa and Australia continue to use hang baits and pinniped decoys.

Companies object to being blamed for shark attacks, pointing out that lightning tends to strike humans more often than sharks bite humans. Their position is that further research needs to be done before banning practices such as chumming, which may alter natural behaviour.

One compromise is to only use chum in areas in which whites actively patrol anyway, well away from human leisure areas. Also, responsible dive operators do not feed sharks; only sharks that are willing to scavenge follow the chum trail, and if they find no food at the end then the shark soon swims off and does not associate chum with a meal. It has been suggested that government licensing strategies may help enforce these suggested advisories.

The shark tourist industry has some financial leverage in conserving this animal. A single set of great white jaws can fetch a one-time price of up to £20,000. However, that is a fraction of the tourism value of a live shark, a more sustainable economic activity. For example, the dive industry in Gansbaai, South Africa, consists of six boat operators with each boat guiding 30 people each day. With fees between £50 to £150 per person, a single live shark that visits each boat can create anywhere between £9,000 and £27,000 of revenue daily.

Conservation status

It is unclear how much a concurrent increase in fishing for great white sharks has caused the decline of great white shark populations from the 1970s to the present. No accurate population numbers are available, but the great white shark is now considered endangered. Sharks taken during the long interval between birth and sexual maturity never reproduce, preventing population recovery.

The IUCN notes that very little is known about the actual status of the great white shark, but as it appears uncommon compared to other widely distributed species, it is considered vulnerable.^[2] It is included in Appendix II of CITES, meaning that international trade in the species requires a permit.

Fishermen target many sharks for their jaws, teeth, and fins, and as game fish in general. The great white shark, however, is rarely an object of commercial fishing, although its flesh is considered valuable. If casually captured (it happens for example in some tonnare in the Mediterranean), it is misleadingly sold as smooth-hound shark.

From April 2007 great white sharks were fully protected within 370 kilometres (200 nmi) of New Zealand and additionally from fishing by New Zealand-flagged boats outside this range. The maximum penalty is a $250,000 fine and up to six months in prison.

[back to great white shark cage dive page]

THE GREAT WHITE SHARK BOAT

White Shark is a 12 meter long sea-cabin cruiser Cat It has been custom built to the specifications required in the shark cage diving industry.

She is the most recent boat built in the shark cage diving industry with the most modern design and requirements installed.

Engines: The new 4-stroke outboard - with 4.0 liter displacement, a 24-valve V6 powerhead with dual overhead Suzuki, offers more speed, more acceleration and more performance than any outboard ever made. It's the world's strongest cams, with variable valve timing, and a new streamlined lower unit that slices through water like a hot knife through butter. There has never been so much power in an outboard.

However the real reason White Shark Diving Co uses these outboards is due to the eco friendly nature of their emissions. The ultra low emissions can hardly be noticed. In fact you can hardly notice the engines when switched on

[back to Great White Shark page]

Hues of Blues - Indigo Bay, Bazaruto, Mozambique

I am not sure why they attached the name “Indigo” to this tropical beach lodge.  As I sit here on the balcony of my palatial room, water lapping a few metres away and facing a setting sun, my ocular senses are bombarded by not one but every other shade of blue. There is sapphire, azure, cobalt and turquoise – and that’s just the water. The sky is cerulean, blue-grey and, now as dusk approaches, violet. The sand takes on a white-blue tinge during the intense midday heat and the sails of dhows drifting past are navy and teal. I suppose they chose the colour Indigo because it has a tropical Latin sound and I am, after all, in Mozambique where Portuguese resonates about the daily life of these islands. Indigo is also a vivid blue, it tends to dominate the others by its richer and deeper hue and it flaunts the authority as one of the big seven colours in the spectrum. Indigo is a royal colour too, and thinking about it now, the colour matches this tropical beach hotel perfectly. Both are so decadently luxuriant.

Indigo Bay Lodge & Spa is Rani Resorts’ flagship hotel, a five star beach resort that stands apart from other five star resorts in Mozambique. For starters it is only one of a small clutch of resorts on the island of Bazaruto, the jewel of the archipelago, and is the most upmarket. As a distinguished guest, you are met at Vilanculo Airport by a Rani representative after disembarking from an aircraft direct from Johannesburg and whisked onto a private plane for a short but colourful flight to Bazaruto. From the air those blues swirl below in shades that make you dizzy. On arrival it feels like you are stepping onto a Hollywood film-set where you are the principal star. Everyone is at your service and the Indigo Bay staff, from the Resort Manager down cannot seem to do enough for you. The grand air-conditioned beach chalets are spaciously set apart from each other among the forested dunes, each fitted out to receive royalty (well that’s the feeling) with own balcony, beach gazebo, sunken bath, two showers (one outside and one in), satellite TV, lounge and a walk-in closet. The Bay-view chalets are even bigger, each with their own plunge pool, kitchenette and additional room. And if you happen to be real Royalty or the president of a country, there is also the Presidential Suite lording high above with a fine view across the bay to Ilha Santa Carolina. The food is scrumptious, with heavy emphasis on Mozambican cuisine. This means plenty of spicy seafood like crayfish, prawns and calamari complete with an array of hot piri-piri sauces that will shake the vulgarity out of Gordon Ramsey. There are pool/beach bars and so many pools I stopped counting. But the Magnum-opus of Indigo Bay Lodge is not so much the lodge but its Spa. Perched atop a lofty sand dune, even higher than the Presidential Suite and enjoying the best sea-view in Mozambique, this heavenly setting is the sanctuary of sanctuaries where us mere mortals may be indulged by the angelic hands of the therapists. The place really does feel rapturous, the music is soft, and the nurturing treatments on offer are dreamy and varied. My favourite was the Spa’s signature treatment, the Rasul, where you and a loving partner apply revitalizing mud to each other in a dark, steamy chamber!

Then, should you get the urge for something more sporty, there is an unforgettable horse-ride to the top of the dunes, 100m above the beach for a bird’s eye view of all the islands of the chain - Benguerra, Margaruque, Bangue and Santa Carolina. This is followed by a heart-stopping lope straight down to the bottom at the Angle of Repose – the maximum angle that sand can remain before it turns into an avalanche. I believe that angle is a staggering 42˚ and I am sure most people do it with their eyes closed. Mine were fixed wide open because I was so frozen with fear. Thankfully the sure-footed horses always take the plunge down in their nonchalant strides. It’s an exhilarating ride. The dunes also provide fertile ground for dune boarding and hiking. Other activities include renting a dhow for the day to explore other islands and remote beaches for romantic seclusion. In fact there was so much on offer that I almost forgot why my partner and I were here in the first place – to scuba dive.

It was a good thing that we did not forget, because diving around the Bazaruto Archipelago in water with every hue of blue is supposedly as good as it gets. I, as a South African, had last visited these islands over twenty years ago, during the eighties when PW Botha was making placatory noises to Samora Machel while the Mozambican civil war was slowly winding down. Back then there were no hotels on Bazaruto Island and only the concrete shells of those on the once famous Paradise and Margaruque Islands nearby. Margaruque had been tentatively kick-started by a Zimbabwean businessman who had sub-contracted the dive operation to a prominent Johannesburg dive centre where I happened to be working as a rookie Divemaster. I landed the enviable job of spending almost a month on these islands exploring and mapping the reefs for prospective South African tourists. I was flown from Johannesburg via Maputo Airport, a ramshackle place brimming with fierce immigration officials, and was worried that I may either be shot out the sky on take-off or met by AK-47-toting RENAMO guerrillas on landing on the islands and ransomed off to Russian pirates for a loaf of bread or extra ammo. Yet instead of meeting rag-tag soldiers I was in effect regaining what those pre-independence travellers holidaying in the 60’s and 70’s always knew, that as far as diving was concerned, the archipelago was pure paradise. I’ll never forget my time spent here, a hedonistic four weeks of non-stop scuba diving. Those sunny, chromatic days back in the late 80’s were forever etched on my impressionable mind, in particular was a reef on the southern end of Bazaruto called Two Mile. Here all manner of life was found, from the most colourful little nudibranchs to large Round-Ribbon Tail Stingrays. From the moment I dived this reef I would forever and unwittingly compare all subsequent dives to this one, and truthfully, few measured up to it. Although I suspected that as memory faded facts became distorted and I wondered if Two-mile Reef would stand the test of time.

Now, I wondered, after jolting my mind away from yesterday’s Rasul Treatment, that in spite of Bazaruto long being a marine protected area, how has it stood up to the enormous pressure of global warming and over-exploitation by a burgeoning local fishing population. The first sign that all was still well was when I noticed that the dive crew at Indigo Bay proudly referred to Two-mile as their premier dive spot. So it must still be good, I thought as I unpacked my dive gear. I was also happy to discover that Indigo Bay Lodge is also actively involved with local communities on marine conservation around the island - another good sign. The Indigo Bay dive-staff clearly take their scuba diving seriously, they are well-dressed, well-spoken Mozambicans whose fathers probably brandished Kalashnikovs during the war, but they are proud of their natural heritage and these days they are friendly islanders who happily assist divers into sleek new wetsuits with light-hearted banter. The dive boat, a large comfortable open deck vessel with ample shade, makes a welcome change from the crowded semi-rigids we are so used to in the south of the country where the sea conditions are far less placid. Again Indigo Bay gave the impression that I was special. My partner and I were the only divers and to me that is heavenly. I’m very particular in that regard since I dive to see marine life not other people underwater. I supposed the reason for our solitude was that the hotel’s other couples, mostly honeymooners, were too busy doing romantic stuff like hand-in-hand strolls along the beach or slinging mud at each other in the Spa’s Rasul Chamber.

Cruising out over the kaleidoscope of blue-hues, the surface of the water lacquered like a mirror without the hint of a ripple, I felt like I was about to meet a long-lost friend after two decades of absence. Rounding the southern sandy point of Bazaruto, there it was, a black exposed strip of reef surrounded by a foamy white border. Two-mile! Suddenly all the memories came flooding back, I remembered all the different segments of the reef. The best was on the seaward side toward the north, where it was deeper, and my heart leapt for joy when the boat came to a halt at that very spot and the Divemaster gave the signal to kit up. Rolling over into the warm water and descending I was surprised at how little things had changed. The coral was in a healthy state, the Plate and Staghorns were still there showing no sign of damage and the fish life among them thriving. Coral bleaching must have been minimal. More good news, a telltale sign that a reef has not been over-fished is the presence of large reef predators like Potato Bass. I saw three big beauties drifting along, inches above the reef, with that imperturbable expression that only Potato Basses have, the unflappable guardians of the deep. Nudibranchs of all colours were in abundance and there were dozens of morays sharing overhangs and caves with cleaner shrimp and Rubberlips. I wanted to extend my hand and say “hey guys, it’s been a while, how are you doing?” It was good to be among old friends again, or at least their offspring, who knows how many generations it has been between then and now? On the way back to the lodge with Dhows in the background we were rewarded with a school of dolphin moving in to surf our bow-wave and perhaps to give us a royal send-off.

This, I thought, can only be as good as it gets. Here I am on a romantic island, after some sublime diving, sun making ready to set, at one of the finest beach hotels in Africa, being pampered like a king, and more than pleased to see that scuba diving is just as it was during those first days of Mozambique’s re-awakening and although much has changed on the islands, for the better, thanks to Indigo Bay Lodge, I am happy to report, nothing much has beneath those indigo waters near a reef they call Two-mile.

[back to Indigo Bay page]

This article appeared in the Jan 29/30th 2011 edition of the Travel 2011, Weekend Argus.

RODRIGUES: MAURITIUS’ DISTANT RELATIVE

“What? Where’s that?” That was the standard response to my telling people that I was planning a recent trip to the little island. “Rodrigues.” I had to repeat, “it’s a small island about six hundred kilometres north east of Mauritius, right out in the middle of the Indian Ocean”. The island is a dependency of Mauritius and was named after a Portuguese mariner Diogo Rodrigues in 1528 discovered when the Portuguese caravels were blown off-course in a cyclone but there is speculation that Arab sailors in their sturdy trianglar sailed dhows had already located the island in the 12^th century. The Dutch and French then occupied the island respectively but both found existence extremely difficult on the exposed infertile topography of the ancient volcano. Over the centuries the French did their best to develop the island and regularly brought in slaves from India and Africa to develop agriculture but with limited success. However there was an abundance of tortoises, turtles, birds and seafood , which sustained human habitation. In 1809 the British took possession of the island, promptly abolished slavery but did nothing else, leaving the freed Frenchified mix of slaves to eke out an existence on their own terms. In 1968 Rodrigues was joined with Mauritius when that island won independence from Britain and has since remained a somewhat distant and semi-autonomous region of Mauritius.

Although the island is part of Mauritius, it is apart from Mauritius in many ways. Much smaller, Rodrigues is about a twentieth of the size and with a population of around only 40 000, compared to the 1, 3 million on the host island. The obvious difference is the lack of large-scale development. Most of the population still exists on a subsistence level growing a few vegetables, tending to small herds of goats and scrawny cows and, of course, living off the sea. The “capital” Port Mathurin is a village with just five short roads set out in a grid pattern where locals from all over the island come to sell their produce at a colourful vibrant market. Port Mathurin boasts the island’s one and only petrol station and the only jetty and small wharf to moor some boats. The normal means of transport for most residents on the island is by means of a rickety public bus or, if one is wealthy enough to own one, an equally dilapidated old scooter of which there are a couple of thousand buzzing around the tiny 17km long by 8km wide island. The lingua franca of the population is Rodriguan Creole but French is widely spoken and to a far lesser extent English (the “official” language), but enough for English-speakers to get by without any hassles. Rodriguans are typical islanders, laid back and convivial, their faces break easily into smiles and their demeanour is soft and approachable. They have little to offer but demand less, their subsistent way of life for them is perfect and unlike some other xenophobic island nations they welcome and converse with visitors readily. Entertainment is what Rodriguans live for and on Sundays and on balmy nights under starry skies the place comes alive with revelry. Music and dancing are important to Rodriguans, not just traditional forms like the Segá but modern music and dance too. When hearing I was a South African the common response was “Ah, Waka waka!” The recent World Cup has endeared the Rodriguans to us South Africans through an African song and the gyrating moves of a Columbian diva, a language all the islanders are familiar with. The food that complements the revelry is equally good. I was not expecting much from an island where everything is grown on a basic subsistence level that is without the benefit of imported foodstuffs but thanks to the deep Indian influence the variety of vegetables and spices like tamarind, garlic, chilli, mango and pineapples are grown, which coupled with a bountiful sea harvest have ensured that Rodriguan Creole cuisine is consummately ambrosial.

The island is surprisingly mountainous; the island’s forested highest peak rises almost four hundred metres above the expansive turquoise coral barrier reef that circles the island. From the peak valleys radiate down to the sea in deep grooves like the spokes of a lopsided wheel. Some of the valleys are densely vegetated, others on the windward side of the island are barren, black volcanic cliffs plunge to brown sparsely grassed plains. Only a handful of hotels exist on the island, nothing large and garish, there are no casinos, no sprawling pseudo-colonial style monstrosities like those on Mauritius. This is a destination for those folk that want to get away from it all; it is not an island for the mercurial hordes on package group tours but rather a place for the adventurer, the true traveller, looking for a place set apart from it all. Its not just the far-flung position that gets the adventurer all a-buzz. The newly installed wind turbines that provide the island with electricity are testament that the wind blows hard here and the placid sweep of the lagoon within the barrier reef makes for ideal for kite and windsurfing. On occasions when the wind drops scuba diving in the indigo depths on the reefs beyond the barrier reef reveals some of the finest diving in the Indian Ocean. Unlike Mauritius where the coral reefs have over the years been systematically reduced to a smidgen of their former glory, here in Rodrigues the coral beds are healthy and vast. Huge plate corals the size of coffee tables are interspersed with forests of staghorn and the occasional dome of brain coral. The coral reef is unique in that it is self-seeding, as the island receives no zooplankton from elsewhere. This has led to a highly adaptive ecosystem that thanks to its geographical isolation boasts a handful of endemic creatures – two species of coral, a damselfish, a variety of a ghost pipefish and a number of crustaceans, making for one of the planets most unique dive destinations.

On land visitors can explore the karst caves on the west of the island, or hire a scooter to visit the market at Port Mathurin where an ancient cannon and the Virgin Mary protectively stand guard over the inhabitants from a nearby hilltop. There are also innumerable hikes along rocky, windswept shores that shelter protected white sandy beaches and turquoise lagoons ideal for swimming, snorkelling and kayaking. Higher up in the valleys the occasional natural forest hides more Rodriguan endemics such as the Rodrigues Warbler, Frody and Fruit Bat. There once were many more endemic species, but the arrival of man in the sixteenth century has wiped many of them out of existence. Rodrigues had its very own Dodo, a close relative of the doomed Mauritian bird called a Solitaire, also flightless and praised for its flavour by the early French settlers but by 1730 thanks to the voracious appetite of the humans it had become extinct. The Solitaire was not the only victim; a dozen other birds disappeared as well as the domed and saddle-backed Rodrigues Giant Tortoises and two species of gecko. If it weren’t for the winds making the seas beyond the barrier reef all but inaccessible to the local fishermen the marine life would also suffer. As it is the lagoons inside the reef are almost devoid of substantial marine life and many Rodriguans who have hitherto relied on the ocean for survival are now turning to cottage industry and tourism in order to make ends meet. The cottage industry comes primarily in the form of hand woven hats and baskets spun from the thorny leaves of a tree called a Vacoas that is found in abundance on the island.

Tourism is on the increase as more people are becoming aware of this island of delights. Marketed as “Mauritius 50 years ago”, all those who are tired of the hype of Mauritius are beginning to discover Rodrigues, much to the chagrin of Mauritians and residents of Reunion, the other island of the Mascarenes, who have been secretly coveting Rodrigues as their own private holiday escape. The burgeoning tourist industry is a double-edged sword because while it alleviates the exploitation of natural resources Rodriguans are fast seeing their traditional way of life diminishes and soon, too soon, Rodrigues will start to resemble her bigger ugly sister. At the moment Rodrigues is still timeless and remotely idyllic so real travellers can still enjoy her authenticity. If you are the sort that wants the glitz and glamour of a Mauritian-style island holiday this is not the place for you, at least not yet.

[back to Rodrigues page]

Article appeared in the Jan/Feb 2011 edition of Submerge magazine

MUCKING IT IN MOZAMBIQUE

Is it possible to rate Mozambique’s hundreds of dive sites and figure out which of those is the best? It’s a tough question. Mozambique has a very beautiful and very long, palm-lined coastline, most of it is endless miles of sun-kissed beach sand, with the occasional archipelago offshore. Beneath the turquoise veneer that fringes the country are some of the best coral reefs on the planet and as for its marine megafauna – giant Mantas, Whale Sharks, game fish, sharks, rays and whales - well there is no beating Mozambique. But to attempt to separate the best from the best in a place renowned for its scuba diving is nigh impossible. Well, nigh but not totally impossible because I believe I have found that dive spot, the best dive in Mozambique is in the Pomene Estuary.

Generally when I think of an estuary I immediately think of a filthy river mouth choked with thousands of tons of that reddish African soil laden with all sorts of debris from the hinterland, not a place to ever consider scuba diving, not ever. Mozambique has a few of these diabolically muddy river mouths - the Limpopo, Zambezi and Rovuma immediately spring to mind. Yet the country is also blessed with that other kind of estuary, the natural, pristine sort, unsullied by human-induced soil erosion and fed by smaller rivers whose flow is impeded by coastal dunes and the water filters through the white sandy bed among virgin Mangrove swamps. The water in these estuaries is also constantly replaced by great tidal surges bringing in fresh mineral-rich salty water twice a day. The waters in these estuaries are clear and full of life. Pomene is such a place. It has a short, broad estuary that flows through an extensive swamp of a variety of species of Mangroves before terminating at its mouth between the Casuarina and palm-clad dunes. Geographically, Pomene is situated in an isolated sandy coastal plain between Inhambane and the Bazaruto archipelago in southern-central Mozambique. Much of the estuary runs north, parallel to the sea and is prevented from flowing directly out by a long spit of beach where it eventually breaks out through a wide gap immediately clashing with the incoming surf that forces its way in at high tide through a series of channels to where the web of mangrove roots finally slow the flow.

Here on the sandy spit built on wooden stilts within the estuary’s inter-tidal zone is Pomene Lodge, a rustic place accessed only by a single set of deep tracks that wind haphazardly from the interior fifty miles from any form of civilization. It has long been the secret haunt of fishermen who come to either fly-fish in the estuary for running juvenile gamefish or trawl the oceans in search of their significantly larger relatives like Giant Trevally, Dorado and Marlin. The lodge, perched on the end of the narrow spit is surrounded on all sides by water and is ventilated by sweet tropical breezes that sigh softly through the Casuarinas at night. With the estuary to its west, the lodge is one of the few places in Mozambique where one can sit back on a wooden deck with feet up, drink in hand and enjoy a true African sunset over the water. And, if the timing is right, swivel 180˚ to the east and watch a full moon rising over the Indian Ocean at the same time.

Naturally a dive centre has been set up here, divers have long ago figured out that if the fishing is good then the diving would be good too. Pomene, as with most of Mozambique’s dive spots, boasts exceptional offshore diving. Boat launches begin on the estuary-side of the spit where the water is placid, then there is a thrilling charge through the surf at the mouth before cruising out into the ocean and eventually descending onto great blocks of coral that are home to any number of Mozambique’s favourites. There are a multicolour of eels from the Giant and Honeycombs Morays to the tiny Ribbon and Dragon Eels. Among the maze of underwater coral arches, caves and overhangs there lurk insanely large Firefish with quills spread like porcupines menacingly looking to ambush unsuspecting small fry. Looking up and around, Mantas and Whale Sharks are often seen gliding past in the blue mid-water, also the domain of great swirling shoals of Barracuda and Big-eye Trevally. Visibility is generally excellent and sea temps are silky warm and vary little throughout the year. Based solely on its ocean dives, Pomene is a spectacular dive location one worthy of top accolades, but by Mozambican standards it is essentially no better than anywhere else along the coast.

What sets Pomene apart from all others is the little stuff. The stuff found in the muddy shallows of the estuary. This is muck diving at its very best, certainly equal to those famed muck dives in Indonesia and Malaysia. Here at slack, high tide the estuary is awash with incoming clear seawater that breathes renewed life into the ecologically important sea-grass beds in the deeper channels. Scuba divers wade in from the white beach and descend to a depth of little more than a few metres. The clarity and light at this point is at its zenith as divers come mask to face with a bevy of rare little critters. On a single dive, I came upon two species of sea horses, their tails curled tightly around the blades of sea-grass. Sea horses are generally rare elsewhere in Mozambique but here they seem to be thriving. In the upper stratum of the grass, in perfect sync with the gently swaying beds, are small schools of Razorfish, inverted upside down, a perfect dupe for predators. Just off the bank of grass, among the debris of dead coral, rotting Mangrove leaves and driftwood are many colours and textures of Frogfish, equally camouflaged but no less striking in colour. Thanks to the depth and temperature of the waters one can remain submersed on this dive for two hours or more exploring every nook and cranny of the estuarine environment. The sheer volume of salt water entering each day allows the estuary to become the ideal sanctuary for juvenile fish of all sorts from sharks to pufferfish that look like miniature spotted ping-pong balls caught in an updraft as they bounce and waver among the protective strands of grass. Firefish too, the offspring of those large bullies I had seen earlier on the ocean dive, pink and so small that a single specimen can fit happily in the discarded split mussel shell, its protective home until it grows bigger and meaner.

Pomene’s resident dive guru, Neville Ayliff, is an expert on reef ecology having spent years educating divers on fish identification and conservation. He is a tailor-made guide for this sort of dive, not only for his bottomless well of ichthyologic information, but he can reveal creatures so hidden that you would think weren’t possible to discern with the naked eye. There are colourful and strange Dragonets with large, splayed pectorals, strange nudibranchs I did not know existed and a red octopus no bigger than the fingernail of my pinkie. Crocodilefish are numerous but concealed, lying patiently in the sand awaiting a buried flounder to make that one false move beneath the coarse granules. There are minute anemone shrimps including one that looks like a Bumble-bee. Crabs, juvenile morays, sea-hares and Filefish don’t even begin to complete Pomene’s entourage. The estuary has seasonal highlights too, each year in February cuttlefish congregate in numbers to breed throwing caution to the current in a hedonistic month of pairing themselves off with each other. Sometimes the whole estuary is swarming with these amorous cephalopods. The cuttlefish also attract the unwanted attention of oceanic creatures that venture into the estuary at high tide to make full use of the bounty. Dolphins, sharks and other predatory fish can be seen moving about feasting on the season’s pickings. As a photographer, marine biologist or regular bubble-blower one would easily be satisfied to spend an entire month just exploring the muck of Pomene without ever having to go out to sea. Neville is also particular about conserving this environment from the ravages of human exploitation that potentially threaten the estuary. Local fishermen are impartial about what they collect and there is a drive to educate them on the intricacies of estuarine ecology. Furthermore, with more scuba divers there will be greater public awareness that Pomene is a delicate yet vital natural resource to Mozambique’s burgeoning tourist industry.

In my opinion this estuary dive on its own is enough to secure Pomene the honour as Mozambique’s best dive spot. There are but a few places in Africa that can display such a rich and varied estuarine environment. Now add this dive to the usual crowd of Mozambique’s oceanic megafauna and coral diversity on the other side of the sand-spit and there is simply no question that Pomene is Mozambique’s number one dive destination. All Pomene needs now is a Dugong or two thrown into the mix and it would be a serious challenger for the world’s best dive.

[back to Pomene Dive page]

MADAGASCAR SCUBA DIVING PACKAGE

8 DAY SCUBA DIVING PACKAGE TO SAKATIA ISLAND FROM R4920/PERSON

Standard Package Accommodation: R4920/person

Upgraded Package Accommodation: R5905/person

Included in the scuba package price

6 nights accommodation in a Nature or Ocean Bungalow at Sakatia Lodge, on a Half Board basis (breakfasts & dinners included), 1 night bed & breakfast accommodation in IC Hotel (or similar) in Antananarivo, return airport transfers in Antananarivo & Nosy Be, 10 Dives with weights & tank hire OR Full equipment hire (depending on your choice of option)

Not included in the scuba package price

International and domestic flights, airport taxes, all optional excursions, all personal expenses, travel and medical insurance, tips, laundry, all drinks, visas, snorkelling and fishing equipment, lunches and any other meals not mentioned in the itinerary.

Madagascar

Its teeming fertile forests and geographical isolation, have served to preserve and propagate 'nature's design laboratory' in a mix found nowhere else on earth. Madagascar's forests are a shimmering, seething mass of a trillion stems and dripping leaves.

Sakatia Island offers its visitors the unspoiled tropical fauna and flora typical of this area.  At only 6.5 km long and 2 km wide at its widest point, it has a population of 300 habitants, with no roads and only foot paths, where one can wander at leisure and explore its beauty and deserted beaches.

The island is fringed by a spectacular coral reef to be enjoyed by snorkeler or scuba diver alike.

Sakatia Lodge

Situated at the foot of the Sacred Mountain and Nature Reserve is Sakatia Lodge.  The Nature Bungalows are basic but comfortable with single or double beds, en-suite bathroom with hot and cold water shower, toilet, fan and small veranda.

The Ocean view bungalows offer single or double beds, veranda, sea view, bathroom with hot and cold water showers, separate toilet, fan and sleeper couch. (You can upgrade the package should you require Ocean bungalows).

The lodge has a stunning lounge / bar area & a separate restaurant overlooking the ocean and fringed by the sacred forest of Sakatia.

Scuba Diving:

Sakatia Lodge has a dive centre and organizes other activities such as Quad Biking, Deep Sea Fishing, Micro Light, Canoeing, Trekking and exploring other Islands within its vicinity.

The Dive Centre is NAUI approved, affiliated to DAN SA and offers Scuba diving and NAUI diving courses, from “discover snorkeling to Instructor as well as specialty courses, NITROX, Night Diving, Environmental Diving, Search and Recovery, ASHI first aid and CPR.

Nosy-Be is the most popular island of Madagascar. On its north there is the Archipelago of the Mitsio and to its south the Archipelago of the Radama. In its immediate surroundings: Nosy Sakatia, Nosy Tanikely, Nosy Iranja  and Nosy Fahinihi, offer excellent diving.

Also known as “The perfume” Island, Nosy Be offers a large variety of local marine life: soft and hard corals, turtles, mantas, whale sharks, barracuda, etc.

Typically, the best season for diving is from May to January, with extra preference for September to November as whale-sharks are more likely to be encountered during that time period.

Article appeared in Divesite Magazine Spring Edition 2010. Writer Adam Cruise.

UNFORGETTABLE OLD SHOAL

There is a saying among South Africa’s scuba diving Old Salts that states: “If you can dive Aliwal Shoal, you can dive anywhere”. At any given season on any given day or hour when those freak winds that the coastal folk of Kwa-Zulu Natal call a “Buster” barrel in, Aliwal Shoal can turn in an instant into a treacherous maelstrom and if you happen to be crazy enough to try dive in such conditions the Shoal will give you something to forever remember her by. Ask me I know. As a rookie instructor I spent two years taking the uninitiated and the inexperienced out to sea at Aliwal. The launch alone was an experience never to be forgotten. Those same Old Salts had another proverb that proclaims there are two types of boat skippers at Aliwal; those that have flipped boats in the surf and those that are yet to. Twice I have had the misfortune of the boat flipping in the churning white bedlam beyond the mouth of the Mkomazi River and twice I lost all my gear and more than a little confidence in surf launches. Once the white water gauntlet was negotiated the seven-kilometre ride out to the shoal was often an exercise of intense physical endurance as teeth gritted, toes curled and knuckles whitened in the face of the forty minute salt-sprayed, wind-whipped, spine-jarring roller-coaster ordeal that frayed the nerves of the most level-headed. Sometimes as one approached the shoal waves could be seen breaking over Pinnacles, the infamous bit of shoal that has caused the complete demise of two ships and damaged countless others. Here the swells could be so big that when preparing to enter the water the boat rolls so precariously that the diver on the opposite side of the boat would, for a brief second, be staring down at you from a vertical position before the roles reversed and then it’s your turn to look precipitously down at the wide-eyed faces. Seasickness was as regular an occurrence as breathing. Everybody got sick including the skippers. They were so used it that I remember on one occasion a skipper briefly interrupted his countdown. He had paused in mid sentence, excused himself politely, threw up over board and nonchalantly resumed the count. Once in the water the ripping currents meant adrenaline rushed, ear-bursting negative descents into pea-soup visibility and often groups would get separated, with the odd straggler having to be picked up miles off the reef. The surge too could be vicious and those who had thought they would escape the chaos on the surface were ferociously hurled about the reef like a piece of tumbleweed. On days like this we would wonder what on earth made any sane person want to dive here but the Old Salts trotted out yet another Aliwal proverb that declared: “when she is bad, she is horrid but when she is good, the Shoal produces the best dives in the world”.

I had seen this phenomenon first hand with my very first two dives at Aliwal. I was doing a Wreck Specialty Course and the first dive to the wreck of the bulk carrier MV Produce, one of the two ships claimed by the Shoal, was much like I described above. We had anchored on to the reef and the current was so strong it took a gargantuan effort to pull ourselves down the anchor chain while our masks wobbled on our faces and threatened to be ripped off as if we were facing into a hurricane. The effort on the descent was enough to exhaust our air supply and no sooner had we reached the bottom at around thirty three metres we had to turn about and ascend, all the while clinging to the rope like a string of Tibetan Prayer flags fluttering in the wind. Yet the second dive the following day to the same wreck was so serenely sublime it was almost impossible to imagine it was the same dive. Overnight the conditions changed from tempestuous ocean to placid millpond. The surface of the sea had transformed from wild and grey to a deep indigo with little wavelets that sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight. The current had vanished and we dropped easily to the Produce in crystal-clear water without having to use the rope at all. Once at the bottom we were confronted by the colossal rudder on the stern of the wreck that, thanks to the endless visibility we could make out in its entirety. The rest of the dive was a journey through scuba Nirvana. Shoals of Goldies hung like orange clouds against a deep blue background while large silhouettes of Brindle Bass lurked among the dark holds and bowels of the wreck occasionally moving out into he open and opening up their cavernous mouths to allow cleaner wrasse to rake their gills clean. In a hold in the bow was the ship’s massive spare iron propeller, the original brass one was removed some years prior but everything was big, the biggest wreck I had ever dived at the time. Even in calm seas and at a depth of over thirty metres one had to mindful of the surge around the edges of the wreck. A slight distraction could see a diver getting thrown against the sharp metal but we were well instructed and well briefed by the man who taught the wreck specialty course at that time.

Andy Cobb was, and perhaps still is Aliwal’s crustiest of Old Salts and the Shoal’s self-appointed guardian. Andy’s old friend Clive Holme was one of the fishermen who braved the wild seas on the 11^th August 1974 to safely rescue the entire crew of the Produce in their skiboats. A decade and half later Andy Cobb was doing a rescue of his own on the Produce. Salvagers had decided to blast off the brass propeller of the wreck but Andy rightly concluded that such an act would kill the entire population of marine life including the Brindle Bass that had made the Produce their home. These were the days when recreational diving on Aliwal was still at a fledgling stage and nobody really gave a hoot about the fate of the fish. Except Andy, who literally shackled himself to the propeller when the blast was about to take place. Andy’s brazen campaign caught the attention of the media and the salvagers were forced to acquiesce and instead cut the propeller at the shaft with special underwater arc-cutters and exercise that cost a fortune and caused the salvagers to run at a loss. Andy had single-handedly saved the rare Brindle Bass for the posterity of us future divers. He also single-handedly tackled the SAICCOR chemical plant upstream on the Mkomazi River that periodically pumped effluent over the Shoal. Andy’s tireless and protracted campaign resulted in SAICCOR pumping less and better treated effluent into the sea improving visibility for divers but, more importantly, improving the overall health of the Shoal again for our future benefit. Over the years and after hundreds of dives on the Shoal Andy has rubbed many exploitative business concerns the wrong way but he enamoured himself with the scuba divers and Shoal’s marine residents. The most notable of these was a huge Potato Bass that Andy named Clive after his friend Clive Holme. One of my all time diving highlights was Clive the Potato Bass rushing over to Andy like a pet Labrador welcoming his owner home from work. The rotund fish even allowed itself to be tickled under the chin by the equally rotund Andy.

Aliwal is most renowned for it’s Raggedtooth Sharks that congregate on the Shoal between June and October to mate. In light of the enjoyment of Wreck Specialty Course at Aliwal, I had signed up for Andy’s comprehensive Shark Specialty Course less than a month later in eager anticipation to dive face to face with the famous raggies. Aliwal once again taunted us with foul weather but then produced the goods same as before but this tome my expectations were by far exceeded. Paging through my old logbook the entry read:

Date: 30/08/1992

Dive no. 91

Max. Depth: 27m

Visibility: 15m

Location: Cathedral

Comments: Best Dive to date!

The dive saw us among no less than thirteen sharks male and female circling at different levels in the amphitheatre like a vortex. Andy had taught us to dive responsibly and discreetly, keeping low and away from the sharks so that we could admire them without disturbing them. The experience remains etched on my mind to this day as I will never forget those spotted coppery shapes cruising past me at eye level with rows of jagged teeth just a metre away but with barely an acknowledgement of our presence from the occupied sharks who were focused solely on finding a suitable mate. At the time I did not think that scuba diving could get better.

Yet it did, years later and once again it was Aliwal that produced the seraphic experience. I was collaborating with yet another Aliwal Old Salt, Mark Addison, on a documentary testing the effectiveness of Natal Sharks Board new anti-shark device, the Shark Pod. Mark Addison belongs to a family whose veins pulse with the salt of the sea. His father, Brent, is the oldest Salt of all. A Springbok spearfisherman in the ‘60’s and ‘70’s, he is widely recognised as a pioneer of recreational scuba diving in South Africa. In the 60’s Aliwal Shoal was known as the “finest big-gamefish reef in South African waters” and to all intents and purposes it still is. Giant Kingfish, Wahoo, Bonito, Spanish mackerel and Sailfish are still common and are often seen by scuba divers on the eastern slopes of the Shoal. In 1972 Brent Addison and some colleagues from University of Natal’s underwater club constructed South Africa’s first and possibly only underwater habitat called HUNUC (Habitat University of Natal Underwater Club). The aim was to study the feasibility of placing a man in the sea for longer periods that diving would normally allow. It was a short-lived scheme because the seas were too rough but it got Brent a lot of attention. He came to be regarded as an “aquanaut”, a term that sounds incongruously antiquated to our modern ears but doubtlessly it was these early pioneering exploits of Brent Addison that put recreational scuba diving at Aliwal on the map.

Son Mark Addison continued where his father had left off and at the time of that Shark Pod documentary in the late 1990’s Mark was the leading and most accomplished dive operator at Aliwal. On this job the raggies had shown the usual apathy both toward us divers and the Pod so Mark, being the veritable spearfisherman he was, took us to a section on the south end of the Shoal called Eel Skins that he knew to be the favoured haunt of other sharks, notably Bronze Whalers and on occasion Tiger Sharks. Since we were filming and were bound by those impossible deadlines producers enjoy thrusting upon the crew we chummed the water heavily and within minutes of entering the water we were surrounded by sharks of all shapes, sizes and varieties. Bronze Whalers and Black-tip reef Sharks were buzzing aplenty beneath the hull of the boat, so were the raggies who now morphed from docile uninterested sharks to crazed vampires. On that dive we saw hammerheads, Zambezis and of course Tiger Sharks that cruised casually like mother ships into the melee to see what the fuss was all about. The blue-water dive boiled with sharks and instantly became my new best dive. Incidentally, the Shark Pod experiment was a flop. Evidently a hungry shark will stop at nothing to get food.

From those Shark Pod escapades Mark began to recognise that other sharks, in particular Tigers, could be as an effective, if not a better draw-card for divers to Aliwal Shoal. He set up Blue Wilderness Adventures and began marketing Tiger Shark dives for anyone brave or crazy enough to want to. They were an instant success and Aliwal, already rated as one of the world’s top ten, just got better. I had always thought the rough launches and big seas would keep the capricious foreign divers away from Aliwal. It was a domain only for us tough South Africans but the lure of the Tigers opened the floodgates and now Mark’s Tiger experience sans cage has won worldwide acclaim as one of, if not the most thrilling dive on the planet.

There is however a lot more to Aliwal Shoal than shipwrecks and sharks. The town Umkomaas, a misspelling of the Zulu word “Mkomazi” which means Whale Cow, a reference to the amount of Humpback Whales and their young that pass the shoal each spring on their way back to the south Atlantic. “Whale Season” coincides with “Raggie Season” and Humpbacks together with Southern Right Whales are often spotted breaching nearby as divers prepare to enter of exit the water and although rarely seen underwater the melancholy song of whales may accompany an entire dive. The northward journey of the whales a few months earlier also coincides with another great marine phenomenon, the Sardine Run. While some years the sardines only make a cameo performance and sometimes don’t even make an entrance at all, the sideshow, which is often better than the main event, continues for our benefit. It’s not just humans that wait patiently at the Shoal for the anticipated sardines. Bottlenose and Common Dolphin patrol Aliwal in huge schools while Bryde’s Whales lurk in the depths occasionally breaching right in front of a startled divers bobbing at the surface. Seabirds are also found hovering about. Albatross and Skuas skim the water with their wing-tips while gannets can be seen plummeting into the ocean whenever a ball of sardines is seen hovering too close to the surface

In summer Manta and squadrons of Devil Rays are common sightings cruising by in the blue mid-water as are Whale Sharks, which always provide an extra-snorkelling bonus to a dive. Down on the reef turtles are prevalent, both Loggerhead and Hawksbill drift in the current occasionally pausing to take a chunk out of a piece of soft coral. Sometimes even the odd Leatherback Turtle graces divers with their presence as it comes up from the inky depths o take a breath of air and if that wasn’t enough the smaller stuff is just as captivating. Little yellow Pineapplefish bob beneath the hundreds of overhangs and male Harlequin Goldies fight off other males for possession of their harems and small patches of reef no more than a square metre in size. There are a myriad of colourful nudibranchs and Shoal’s most famous endemic, the Tiger Angelfish (Apolemichthys kingi) discovered and named by another Aliwal Salt, Dennis King. King together with nudibranch expert Valda Fraser have collectively spent more time than any other diver on Aliwal Shoal recording and photographing the bountiful marine life. Dennis has produced two Fish ID books on the subject Reef Fishes & Corals of the East Coast of Southern Africa and More Reef Fishes & Nudibranchs, which he compiled in collaboration with Valda Fraser.

To think that with all this life Aliwal Shoal is not even a true coral reef. The Shoal is in fact a calcified prehistoric sand dune, a beach that was once above the waterline. Thanks to the calcification of the dune a few species of hard and soft corals, algae and seagrass have been able to attach themselves and exploit the mineral-rich Agulhas Current washing over. Over time the water sculpted the many recognisable caves, overhangs and nooks that provided shelter for many little reef fish and the warm water from Mozambique together with the occasional cold snap from the south have resulted not only in a population of otherwise tropical animals cohabiting with more temperate species but it has provided a unique environment for the evolution of one or two unique species endemic to Aliwal alone like the Tiger Angelfish and the little purple Harlequin Goldie.

Naturally Aliwal’s rich abundance and diversity has attracted marine biologists and scientists by the droves. The Natal Sharks Board has not only tested devices like Shark Pod here but more pertinently it’s resident scientists Geremy Cliff and Vic Peddemors have over the years garnered much of the current information we know about raggies and Tiger Sharks. Studies on soft corals, industrial effluent and other marine life as well as the tireless campaigning of Andy Cobb has finally prompted South Africa’s Environmental Ministry to recognise Aliwal as a tourist treasure trove and declare the Shoal a Marine Protected Area. The function of the MPA is both to limit the use of user groups like fishermen and spearfishermen and to manage scuba divers on the reef by issuing a permit system as well as introducing a code of conduct that dive operators have the responsibility of enforcing.

From a scuba divers perspective, if you have yet to dive Aliwal Shoal, it must immediately be placed right at the very top on the top of your bucket list and if you have had the great fortune of diving the Shoal you may agree with me that despite her bad days Aliwal Shoal rightly holds the title of one of the world’s top ten dives. To conclude though, I would like to add a little of my own salty cents worth and that is when Aliwal Shoal at her most consummate, my proverb would read: “There are the world’s top ten dive sites and there is Aliwal Shoal”.

[back to Tiger Shark page]

TIGER SHARKS AT SOUTH AFRICA'S SHARK PARK, ALIWAL SHOAL

Scuba diving with Tiger Sharks is possibly one of the most adrenaline pumped dive on the planet! Aliwal Shoal boasts the best year round Tiger Shark Dive in South Africa. Aliwal Shoal is a reef just south of Durban in South Africa's Kwa-Zulu Natal and is unarguably rated as one of the top ten dive sites in the world. Apart from Tiger Sharks, Aliwal Shoal has two wrecks that are home to giant Brindle Bass while the reef is packed with breeding Raggedtooth Sharks, Manta Rays, Turtles, whale Sharks, Dusky Sharks, Bronze Whaler Sharks and several species of fish that are completely endemic to the Shoal.

Price: R1200pp

Price includes:

One scuba dive with Tiger Sharks

One cylinder & weight belt

Light refreshments and drinks served on the boat

ITINERARY:

07h30 Meet at Shark Park beach

07h30-08h00 Kit up & briefing about Tiger Shark etiquette

08h00-08h30 Surf Launch

12h00-14h30 return to shore

14h30-15h00 shower and coffee.

See related article of Aliwal Shoal by Adam Cruise (appeared in Spring 2010 edition of Divesite Magazine)

MEDJUMBE ISLAND ARTICLE

Submerge Magazine April/May 2008; and Prestige Magazine October 2008. Writer Adam Cruise

THE MEDJUMBE BLUES: A POSTCARD FROM THE EDGE

My interest in the Quirimbas Archipelago in the far north of Mozambique was ignited a couple of decades ago when I was sifting through some old maritime archives. I was researching for a wreck-seeking expedition to southern Mozambique when I inadvertently pulled out an old Royal Hydrographic Office sea chart mapping the northern sector from Porto Amelia (now Pemba) to the Cabo Delgado just below the Tanzanian border. What struck me immediately about that washed out black and white chart was the unusual shape of the coastline. It was different from any other stretch of the southeast African coast. Usually the shore of this entire region is an endless, uninterrupted line of beach and dunes with an occasional premonitory jutting out like a pimple on the maritime charts. But on this map, beginning with the strangely rounded deep water bay behind Porto Amelia/Pemba then running north for over 300kms, the entire line between land and sea is broken into little pieces as if the edge of the land were shattered by some colossal force that smashed it up like glass. This made for some exciting scanning. Apart from dozens of tiny tropical islands, most without names, the whole map was crisscrossed with angry-looking jagged lines depicting, what would be a nightmare for mariners but a dream for divers, coral reef, hundreds of square kilometres of unexplored, pristine coral reef. I was dazed at the sheer expanse. I had to go and see this wonderland for myself. Of course back then that stretch of Mozambique was strictly off limits. Partly because the nation was slowly emerging from a lengthy and bloody civil war and partly because that region has always been sealed off from the outside world. From the sea the mainland is blockaded by kilometres of treacherous shallow reef and from the interior behind the mangrove swamps, a vast, hot, unforgiving African wilderness that has by and large preserved the Quirimbas’ from the relentless march of civilization. Only the Arab traders in their shallow-drafted Dhows have plied these waters, raiding the isolated fishing villages of the Makondo tribe for eons in the pursuit of slaves. But those jagged lines signifying a pristine coral archipelago were emblazoned in my memory and I knew that some day I would be among those little islands and diving over those immense reefs. Little did I realise that I would have to wait almost twenty years to get my chance. Not from lack of trying though. In the mid-nineties I had tried to put together an overland expedition to the Quirimbas Islands. A select group of toughened divers complete with scuba gear and compressor were to make our way in a convoy of 4x4’s on an almost impossible trek to the north via Malawi then east into Mozambique across the endless rocky tracks of the far-flung Niassa province to Pemba (I had calculated it would take a least 4-5days to get there). Once there, we would have had to negotiate through the impenetrable Mangrove swamps and if we got through that then - and this was the really big obstacle - we had to get across to the islands. We couldn’t drag a boat and the fuel it required all the way from South Africa since the roads were practically impassable for a boat trailer. We considered commissioning a Dhow from the locals but how and where? The logistics finally proved too overwhelming and the expedition was reluctantly shelved for good.

With the new millennium, however, civilization finally cracked the lock of the Quirimbas’ and creaked open the door. Pemba, the gateway to the archipelago, has since become a bustling commercial centre with an “international” airport and is now the hub for all sorts of foreign trade from timber and cotton to oil and other mineral prospecting. The islands, with the notable exception of Ibo (an ancient trading port), are still largely uninhabitable mainly due to a lack of fresh water. Besides they are virtually impossible to get to on account of the wide shallow fringing reefs. Yet the lure of tourism has tugged and so, with great expense and perhaps a dash of foolhardiness, some intrepid business minds have managed to develop a handful of upmarket resorts on some of the islands. The task must have been nigh impossible and the costs considerable. Airstrips needed to be lain out, water drilled or freshened by reverse osmosis, bricks and mortar brought in by Dhow, generators, plumbing equipment, a way to supply fresh food from South Africa and the mammoth task of drafting in the Makondo locals who, after eons as subsistent fishermen, are now been trained to earn hard currency by pandering to the whim of the capricious tourist - a beast as alien to them as a Martian would be to us.

Today the island resorts have taken shape and as a dive travel specialist in Cape Town, my chance to finally visit the Quirimbas’ dawned. I was advised to visit the tiny island of Medjumbe about 150kms north of Pemba. Allegedly it has some of the finest diving in the region. But I hardly needed prompting and after an entertaining flight via Maputo with Mozambique’s national airline LAM, I was soon taking off from Pemba in a Cessna. Forty-five minutes later the view on the approach to the island yanked me bolt upright in my seat. Below, amid a huge expanse of translucent turquoise, a wisp of land no more than a kilometre long and a hundred metres or so wide, intimated paradise personified - idyllic, secluded, undiscovered, mysterious and tropical. On the ground, I felt like Charlie in the chocolate factory – soaking in the intoxicating atmosphere, the heat both oppressive and invigorating, the sky bright and the sea’s limitless expanse of turquoise and blues flanked by the sharply contrasting white sands of the shoreline were wholly inebriating. I could not get enough and chomping at the bit I caught myself quizzing the congenial resort manager for information on the situation of Medjumbe’s scuba diving. What was it like? Howz the viz? Is the coral still intact? The fish life what about the fish life? The man stood silently by displaying the calm countenance of a Buddha, “wait and see”, he answered sagely with a faint wry smile when I finally ran out of steam “wait and see”.

I know now why the resort manager was not verbally forthcoming. There are not enough superlatives to describe the diving around Medjumbe and I suppose he found it pointless to even begin trying. One has to see for oneself to believe it. Scuba diving around Medumbe bombards the senses with wave upon wave of visual and tactile feasts. The boat-ride itself is an ocular meal. The water transforms from the light sky-blue of the shallows to a slightly deeper shade of turquoise dispersed here and there with patches of purple that become more numerous. Finally the water blends into a cobalt tinge as the reef below dips into the depths. Immersion in the silky warm 28-degree C water is an unbelievable feeling especially for a diver who resides and dives in the cold grey waters of Cape Town. Coupled with that, the absolute clarity underwater exhibits field upon field of coral. Huge Plate Corals the size of dinner tables are interspersed between massive gardens of Staghorn and Brain Coral. Naturally, the fish life in this sub-aquatic Eden is abundant and a macro photographers dream. After one eighty-minute dive my logbook read like Collins’ Guide to Coral Reef Fishes of the World. We encountered a pink leaf-fish, a black juvenile and an electric blue adult Ribbon Eel, a few miniature Yellow-spotted Scorpionfish sharing a coral home with a Pearl Coral Crab, nudibranchs of a variety and colour I have yet to see elsewhere, mantled Cowrie Shells, three kinds of firefish, four species of sweetlips, a Longnosed Hawkfish, the biggest crayfish I have ever seen, two Giant Moray Eels and one Honeycomb Moray Eel, Bluespotted Rays, Queenfish, Dogtooth Tuna, Napoleon Wrasse, a school of Humpback Unicornfish that are rare everywhere but here, a Hawksbill Turtle, two kinds of pufferfish, an aggressive Titan Triggerfish as well as dozens of damsel, angel and butterflyfish. I was flabbergasted after this dive but to my astonishment I learnt from Medjumbe’s pair of pouting Divemasters that the best was yet to come!

The best is a reef dubbed “The Edge of Reason”. It lies to the north east of the island about 10minutes by boat toward the edge of the continental shelf. Here, at 18 metres the coral seems to flow over a precipice and plunge vertically hundreds of metres into the indigo chasm of the Mozambique Channel.  The void is profoundly alluring. Your body and mind feel drawn to descend deeper until the senses dull and the air feels like syrup. You are dimly aware you should be afraid but the closeness of the precipice alongside is oddly comforting as if you feel you can reach out at anytime and halt the fall into the abyss. At a depth of 30m the sea wall is disseminated everywhere with massive Gorgonian Fan Corals that gently sway in the cerulean twilight. The ambient blue is captivating and dreamlike but slowly your mind, or perhaps your guardian angel, distantly reminds you that you are diving at the limits and it takes a gargantuan inner strength to pull back from the edge. The whole experience lasts no more than 40minutes including a long safety stop in a mild mid-water current that runs parallel to the edge of the shelf. Here game fish like Barracuda and Wahoo prowl, effortlessly swimming against the current in search of prey. As we break the surface Steve, the Divemaster/skipper calls from the boat “how was it at the Edge, dude? “Totally insane!” I whoop. The insanity does not end with the Edge of Reason (a site that is limited to experienced divers only). Novice divers visiting Medjumbe can literally dive both a different reef and a brand new reef every time they leave the island. In any direction for any distance there is shallow coral reef of such enormity that, after two years of operating, the dive team can still take one to a previously unexplored underwater location. Impressively, they needn’t go far to find one. Guests can even have the unique opportunity of naming a dive site themselves or, better still, after themselves. The sensation one gets is that the surface has barely been scratched and there may be many more glorious secrets to uncover. There is, I believe, one very special aquatic secret that Medjumbe still holds. Those jagged edges on that antiquated chart that at some point in the distant past must have sent a shiver or two down the spines of many a ship captain are the clues. Back in the days as a wreck finder, I learnt that more often than not the location of a lighthouse was always an indicative sign of nearby shipwrecks.  Lighthouses or beacons are almost always erected after the tragedy of a shipwreck and Medjumbe has a lighthouse, albeit a very old one that is no longer in use. But there is a fair possibility there is a long forgotten coral-encrusted hulk or two somewhere on those enormous coral banks and it’s only a matter of time before one or more are discovered.

Yet Medjumbe is not all about scuba diving. The little island has other inviting reasons to visit. The resort has been modelled as “private” in that it is both an exclusive and an inclusive resort. “Exclusive” as the island is totally secluded and isolated from the outside world – even to the point that there are no Mosquito’s and therefore no Malaria. There is also no other human presence other than the resort staff and guests. Although not a budget destination by any stretch of the imagination, Medjumbe is called an “inclusive” resort in that the management try to dissuade guests from putting extra-mileage on their credit cards. In other words, the limitless supply of gastronomic delights and beverages (including alcohol) are already included in the overall price. This is a bargain since the food is, in a word, exquisite.  Especially considering that most of the fresh produce is flown in all the way from South Africa at great expense – except the fish which of course is bought locally. The resort is also within a marine reserve. Medjumbe has carte blanche from the authorities in protecting its own waters. This at once gives economic support to the local fishing community by purchasing locally caught produce as well as effectively allowing the resort to control and manage the reefs from over-exploitation. The initiative is significant since the local fishermen, who now earn more capital from the resort than otherwise, themselves become ardent conservationists by jealously guarding their patch against avaricious foreign fishermen. Thus the waters around Medjumbe appear much richer than other Indian Ocean Islands. On almost all the dives I saw healthy numbers of gamefish that otherwise may have been depleted.

The service level of the local staff is also highly commendable. It is a wonder that in just a couple of years the locals, most of whom have never seen a light switch let alone running water from a tap, are able to pander to the sophisticated elite - not only with efficiency but with a cheerful disposition that makes even the most pedantic Western European traveller capitulate to their charm. Having to live in a metropolis whose economic backbone is tourism, I feel Cape Town could learn a trick or two from the humble, amicable staff of Medjumbe. The management too are approachable and engaging. Yet the real appeal of Medjumbe extends further. Cut off from civilization it’s the ideal hideaway – no shoes are necessary and even the time zone is different. Guests are requested to set their watches to Medjumbe-time one hour ahead of CAT (which is what the rest of the country respects). The wispy dimension of the island allows only for thirteen chalets, so there are no rowdy hordes of pleasure seekers that plague some other parts of Mozambique. There is also a no-kids policy making it perfect for honeymooners. Each chalet faces directly on the beach and is sheltered from the other chalets. Each has its own plunge-pool with the room complete with air-conditioning, inside and outside showers, a large bath overlooking the sea and, as one travel brochure proudly mentions, a television – a strange anomaly - but I suppose it’s for that minority group of telly-tubbys who can’t bare the thought of life beyond the small screen. What that brochure astonishingly fails to mention is the natural big screen view from the bed. With head on the pillow the tropical vista is breathtaking - a parallel strip of white sand meets the thin blue and green line of the ocean before being replaced by the dominant view of the tropical sky interspersed with puffy white cumulous clouds that float over the distant haze of the mainland.  If it wasn’t for the diving, I could easily spend the entire week between my private pool and the bed of my chalet. Yet a brief walk around the island reveals another surprise about Medjumbe – it’s a sanctuary for pelagic and migrating creatures of the wing. Ornithologists and “Twitchers” will go moggy at the site of the variety of species of terns and egrets. There is a large rookery of breeding herons as well as whimbrills, plovers and a resident African Fish Eagle who lords over the island from the thermals above. The inter-tidal zone too is buzzing with life – Hermit Crabs crisscross the beaches at night while Blacktip Sharks dart around in the shallows during the day. One can also go boat fishing where most of the fish like Giant Kingfish, Wahoo and Sailfish are caught and released. The fly-fishing for Leatherback Trevally and other Kingfish on the sand spit, I am told, is out-of-this-world. There are kayaks, a Hobie Cat and some windsurfers. But Medjumbe has such a relaxing atmosphere that most guests just take the opportunity to recharge their batteries through solar energy - lying prone in the sunshine by the pool or on the beach while sipping through the unlimited supply of cocktails. At dusk these vibrantly coloured potions vie with the colours of the sunset and the gentle hubbub of conversation over a five star dinner inevitably turns to diving. The drone eventually ebbs away as the stars shine bright and the evening breezes lull one into a peaceful slumber where a dream whisks one joyously back into the silky blueness beneath the waters of the Quirimbas Archipelago.

[back to Medjumbe Island page]

TOFO ARTICLE

Published Submerge magazine August/September 2010. Writer Adam Cruise

TOFO – Mozambique’s Hottest Spot

Everyone knows Mozambique is hot. The weather is hot, the peri-peri is hot, the vibe is hot and the scuba diving is hot. But there are degrees of hot and the hottest spot in Mozambique is Tofo. This is a vibrant, pulsating little town  - if you can call an incongruous jumble of old concrete buildings, wooden holiday shacks and a reed village a town. It’s a place that nestles among the dunes on a placid bay not more than a dozen kilometres from Inhambane, a Palm and Casuarina-lined setting that exudes a funkiness like no other in Mozambique. It is a place for people who love the good life, those laid-back individuals who enjoy good food, good vibrations and, above all, a great adventure.

Tofo is not a place of plush resorts where uniformed staff tip-toe across manicured lawns with trays of colourful cocktails and guests, usually couples, converse in hushed tones in air-conditioned chalets. Instead this is somewhere all together more authentic, more interactive where drifters from all over the globe wander among locals in the market, where open air restaurants and cafes advertise Laurentina and Dois-M Beer, where seasoned sun-dwellers lie prone on the shimmering sand while fishermen drive their little wooden boats into the shore break and divers walk, wetsuits rolled halfway down their torsos, to and from dive boats among young touts jostling with each other to sell small coconut bread-rolls to any willing customer. Part of Tofo’s character is the collection of old concrete buildings in the town centre that have been renovated in degrees to house colourful cafés that serve surprisingly good food while most of the accommodation tends to be in newer wooden chalets called casitas. The most popular of the many places to stay is Casa Barry, situated right on the beach and protected by a Casuarina-clad dune. Casa Barry has casitas to suit various budgets and group sizes and has a great restaurant over-looking the bay where the staff are happy to teach you a few words in Portuguese.

Most of the travellers have come primarily for the diving and there are half a dozen dive centres scattered along the bay, but the newly arrived is not really spoilt for choice since only one dive centre stands out. Literally. Their garish orange boat, in bold contrast to the soft turquoise of the bay, yanks the attention from the others and like a moth to a flame the viewer is naturally drawn toward it. This is a company that mirrors what Tofo is all about. It is little wonder that they go by the name Peri-peri Divers - the hottest dive centre in Mozambique, and the dynamic owners Steve and Nick sizzle with gushing exuberance. The guys and their crew bring a joie de vivre to an already lively town. They have rated each of the two-dozen or so reefs humorously in terms of spiciness – easy shallow reefs, ideal for beginners and learner divers, are classified as “lemon & herb” while the more advanced reefs are “mild” with the deepest and most difficult rated “hot”. Their bold orange dive boat is called Malagueta after an intensely fiery pepper that is often used in peri-peri.

While the play on words revolves around the red-hot pepper, the guys at Peri-peri Divers are genuinely warm, with an approachable, friendly personality. Steve Counsel, an endearing Mank (that’s what you are called when you come from Manchester) with a comical Jim Carrey-look, was the dive leader for our first dive. His dive briefing was thorough yet light-hearted and apart from covering the usual points like depth, time, limits and buddy separation, Steve added two of his own customised ones – T.T.T and P.V.G.E.V=smiles. T.T.T is an interesting spin on the “no-touch” rule underwater - no Tantalising, Tickling, or Touching. P.V.G.E.V, says Steve in his broad Mank accent and even broader grin, is his diving version of Einstein’s Energy Theory. He says that if divers can generate Positivity, Vitality, Good Energy and Vibrance it will result in fun diving and smiles all around.

With positive energy abounding our intended dive site was described, one of Tofo’s finest, called Giants Castle. Giant’s is rated “hot” on account of its depth and ripping current, so divers need to be fairly advanced and able to perform a negative entry, a rapid decent where there is no time to bob to the surface after the backward roll off the boat. It’s called Giant’s Castle for a reason as it is home to Tofo’s famous megafauna - Whale Sharks, Manta Rays, and on occasion during the winter months, Humpback Whales. These animals are the reason divers gravitate to Tofo and Giants Castle did not fail to deliver, perhaps due to Steve’s penchant for exuding positive energy. From the pontoons of the bright orange dive-boat the water was a deep Indigo-blue promising phenomenal underwater visibility and when we got to the bottom no fewer than four Mantas were encountered as we drifted along the ridge at a depth of 30m, while a seven-metre Whale Shark cruised by, mouth agape funnelling large quantities of plankton into its cavenous mouth while the blue backdrop was detailed by a resident shoal of Big-eye Kingfish that swirlled like a silver tornados in mid-water. Giants is one of those dives that is hard to beat, but the crew from Peri-peri Divers did beat it, with a follow-up dive to what the world now knows as Manta Reef.

Manta Reef’s infamy has grown steadily over the years thanks in part to the close attention of Tofo’s renowned personality, resident scientist Dr. Andrea Marshall. Andrea has been researching Manta’s on this reef since 2004 and is now the world’s leading authority on Manta Rays due to the constant but tenuous presence of the winged giants on this reef. From her research centre based at Casa Barry called The Foundation for the Protection of Marine Megafauna, Andrea has almost single-handedly taken on the plight of Mantas from over-fishing by Asian trawling-vessels who are threatening the existence of Mozambique’s population and is championing their cause for formal protection in that country. She is also the subject of a moving BBC documentary on Tofo’s Mantas that is scheduled to air in South Africa sometime in mid-2010.

Diving Manta Reef is one of the great privileges for any diver. It has to be one of the top 10 dive sites in the world not only because of the abundance of Mantas but also because some are colossal. The reef itself is an extensive Manta cleaning station where certain species of damsels, wrasses and butterfly-fish wait in eager anticipation for the Mantas to cruise in. Like Stealth-bombers the Manta’s line up in formation, moving in one-by-one where they hover inches above the reef long enough for the cleaner fish to glean the parasites from them. For a diver to just float, a small distance away, and watch one of nature’s most interesting spectacles is a special experience that transcends imagination. What makes the experience that much more extraordinary is that some of the Mantas are considerably bigger than others, some reaching a staggering seven-metre wingspan. Andrea has identified these mega-Mantas as a separate species since their colouration and physiology are somewhat different. This rare and newly described species now goes by the name of Manta alfredi - the Giant Manta.

Unbelievably after a number of dives to this hottest of dive spots, divers eventually become so accustomed to the presence of Mantas that they begin to look at other animals on the reef. Manta Reef is blessed with a rich abundance of other marine life – big schools of snapper drift by like curtains swaying in a gentle breeze, five separate species of Moray Eel including the rare and extremely colourful Dragon Moray reside among the cracks and crevices, while a cave provides a commune for dozens of Lionfish. Manta Reef is also home to the world’s largest stingray, the Small-eyed Stingray that is found nowhere else in the world but here. Take away the Mantas this reef will still be one of the best dive spots in Mozambique.

The beauty about Tofo is that almost before and after every dive there is a chance to snorkel with Whale Sharks that, like the Mantas, reside here in numbers greater than usual. On the longer boat rides it’s almost a guarantee and the crew from Peri-peri are experts at spotting the dark shapes beneath the water where they brief you on the intricacies and etiquette with snorkelling alongside these docile behemoths, emphasising once again the T.T.T rule. There were so many Whale Sharks around that I noticed the divers become overly blasé, at one stage refusing another offer to snorkel with a shark and stating dismissively that they would rather see something else!

With marine life such as this, Tofo is unquestionably the hottest place to be in Mozambique. The food is spicy, the beach-life terrific, the atmosphere is addictive and thanks to a dive operation like Peri-peri Divers who augment Tofo’s superlative dive sites with their own sizzling brand of diving, divers would be crazy not to add Tofo to the top of their long Bucket-list.

[back to Tofo, Mozambique page]