Flying towards Male, the northern atolls of the Maldives came into view out of the window. Brilliant rings of turquoise, painted in elegant brush strokes across the deep smooth blue of the open ocean. The different shades of blue, the lines subtly etched across the reef flats and lagoons, the various shapes formed by wind and tide, each atoll was different and each looked like a piece of artwork or delicate jewellery from the sky. I tried to imagine how the coral that forms these atolls had pushed to the surface spread outward, formed a lagoon and then would eventually break apart under erosion to form a new atoll from some patch remaining in the sunlit zone. Over the millenia I imagined the surface bubbling with these amazing structures ever moving and incredibly alive. Every single atoll below was a teeming hub of life, consisting of millions of individuals of sea creatures adorned in colourful tropical glory.
I had been wanting to visit the Maldives for a long time and see the largest coral reef system in the Indian Ocean. My excitement was pretty peaked as we got closer to landing. As the plane got lower I started to notice land for the first time. Tiny, infinitesimal specks of coral rubble, that had just about grown a bit of vegetation. Could this really be what an entire country lived on? Landing on Hulamale, the airport island next to Male, it was immediately obvious how this 'land' was a mere metre or so above the waves that crashed onto the manmade seawalls and, to me, felt very ephemeral.
After a brief turn around in Male, I headed out to Kuramathi, the resort island where I was going to do the research. The purpose of the trip was to assess the health of the coral reefs around the island and investigate how the hotel might be affecting the reefs, but also how they could help manage the reefs. Its an idea that is well placed in the Maldives, where resorts cover entire islands and therefore have a high level of control and a high level of direct benefit from their reefs. With nothing much else for their customers to do other than snorkel and dive, the health of their reef directly feeds back into their visitor satisfaction and their income.
As soon as I'd put my bags down I went straight out of my room and swam out from the beach to the reef crest, just 100m offshore. The reef slope dropped steeply, to depths that I couldn't tell, and with the sparkling clear waters of the central Indian Ocean below me, it really gave a sense of vertigo and again how this 'land' is perched precariously in the middle of the deep blue ocean. I did a few free dives down the wall checking out this new reef system I would be surveying over the next few days, and on one of my ascents a Blacktip Reef Shark swam straight in front of my face. It was a magnificent encounter. Over the coming weeks I saw four species of shark, tuna, huge grouper, eagle rays and one manta ray, all marine mega-fauna which are missing from almost everywhere else these days. The reefs were in really good condition, mostly due to the fact that these reef systems are too huge and the population too tiny to really trash them. In addition the Maldives recognise that the majority of their income comes from their healthy reefs and amazing marine life, so there is quite a lot of support for marine conservation. Of course this doesn't mean the Maldives are completely safe from the ravages of humanity, but of everywhere I've seen they seem one of the most hopeful situations.
However, back on the island the nature of resort made me feel less hopeful for the future. 800 guests are waited on by approximately 600 staff on a one mile sand spit, which has had every corner of it converted into a massive pleasure garden for people to come and enjoy every modern luxury and convenience. Every guest, and to a lesser extent every staff member, on the island is showering, eating, using the toilet, charging appliances etc etc etc. all in the middle of the ocean. All of this food, water, energy and waste must be imported, produced or processed at great expense, both monetarily and in terms of resources.
The use of islands as microcosms for wider society is nothing new of course. And I should say at this point that the resort is genuinely trying its best to do things as sustainably as possible. I just think that the nature of the resort exemplifies for me for some of the worst indulgences of modern society. Too many people using too many resources in place not naturally equipped to sustain it, and for what purpose? So people can lie in the sun, drink and read books. Is it really worth it? And on a another level, one group of people living with every luxury, which is only possible because they are supported by another group who toil in the background to sustain it. I don't want to induce a massive guilt trip or condemn anyone with these comments, and I completely understand why people want this kind of thing. But being on such a small island its hard to ignore the reality of how this situation is maintained. At least it was for me.
On the way back to Male we passed Thirifushi, the landfill island. Most of the waste from Male and other nearby islands is shipped here and simply dumped onto this artificial island. The rubbish mountain is permanently smouldering and sending a devilish black cloud into the sky. As we passed it on the boat, some dolphins were spotted on the other side, which gave the tourists heading back home that day a last taste of Maldivian paradise.
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| Leopard Shark - Maldivian megafauna |
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| Health fish populations - Large shoal of humpback snapper |
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| View of Kuramathi from the reef |
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| Section of reef flat in great condition |
