Microcosm Maldives

Microcosm: A community, place or situation regarded as encapsulating in miniature the characteristic qualities or features of something much larger.

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.

Leopard Shark - Maldivian megafauna

Health fish populations - Large shoal of humpback snapper

View of Kuramathi from the reef

Section of reef flat in great condition

New experiences in Djibouti

My name is Benjo. I am English, 25 years old and a marine biologist. This is a blog about my wandering and wonderings about the world and particularly the wetter parts. I am lucky enough to have travelled to a number of places, diving on a variety of coral reefs and hanging out with a variety of different people in the process. Since the last chapter in my life came to a close recently in Kenya (see benjoinkenya@blogspot.com), I have begun to spread my wings even more and it seems like I am on the cusp of lots of exciting things to come. During this blog I will try and bring you stories from interesting places, a flavour of the people and landscapes and discuss some of the forces at work influencing our oceans and the life around them.  

            This first journey, I’ll take you to Djibouti, a tiny desert nation on the East Coast of Africa. I found out about going there just two weeks before setting off. There was a project, working with IUCN (International Union for the Conservation of Nature) for which they needed a dive buddy and research assistant. My supervisor Alex suggested me to Rebecca, the lady organising part of the expedition, I sent my CV to her and half an hour later I got a phone call to say I was going! As she described the expedition to me I discovered that two other people on the project were colleagues from Kenya, including David, who is on my PhD advisory committee. Turns out it is a small world, when you’re an Indian Ocean coral reef biologist.

            Djibouti is located in one of the most politically unstable areas in the world, with Somalia to the south, Yemen to the East and the waters off from it are prime spots for piracy. My primary concern was about my safety at sea, as the project was going to be based on a live-aboard boat. Most people I told were more concerned about ebola, but no, in fact the UK is technically closer to the ebola outbreak as the crow flies than Djibouti. David and Rebecca ensured me it was perfectly safe and on arrival in Djibouti I was amazed by the enormous international military presence in the country, with Americans, French, German, Japanese and several other nations all being represented in this little known, but strategically placed country.

            The project in Djibouti is centred around identifying and mapping the wildlife of the country with a focus on wildlife-based enterprise for Djiboutians to make sustainable income from their marine resources. Our expedition was to spend two weeks in the Gulf of Tadjoura mapping and recording the biodiversity of the reefs on this section of the Great Rift Valley where this chasm cutting across Africa meets the Indian Ocean. Aboard the good ship Deli we set off following the coastline, mapping the reefs, making species lists and collecting key data about the ecology of the area.

            For me this trip was the first high-level research expedition I had ever been invited on, and I was so really enthused to be invited to work at that level. It was also especially nice to get back in the water and be hanging around East Africans again. However, after the first couple of days the heat began to sap me. Afternoon temperatures could be well over body temperature and into the 40s, and living on a boat without air conditioning all you could do to cool down was jump in the sea. Data entry would often take all evening and periodically people would stand up from their computers when the heat got too much and without warning leap off the boat. A mid-expedition stop over in an air-conditioned hotel was heaven and necessary to keep out brains from boiling!

            Much of the coastline we surveyed was completely uninhabited, with dramatic cliffs and lava flows, especially toward the end of the gulf, where the forces pulling the African and Somali plates are ripping the land apart. There is a small inland sea, called the Ghoubet, connected to the main gulf by only 500m or so of water, which had the most dramatic scenery both above and below water. Dramatic cliffs plunged into the sea, and continued as vertical walls into the abyss, along with unusual ‘reefs’ which were little more than corals growing on the black lava rock underneath. The best day diving we did was at the tip of the Ghoubet where one can actually dive the crack between the two plates. We descended down between the two vertical walls, with only 2-3m between them, swimming through tunnels and seeing the sunshine streaming down through gaps above. Absolutely amazing.

            In general I was very impressed by how healthy the marine life was. Most reefs were teeming with inquisitive grouper and large numbers of parrotfish and surgeonfish, all types of fish that are sensitive to overfishing. In addition the coral cover was extremely high and I had never seen such large or dominant table corals, some up to 4m across. David told me how when he began his research in the late 1980s, these sensitive corals were seen in many parts of the Indian Ocean, but the combination of climate change and other local human impacts had wiped out most of these giants. It was really great to get a feel for how reefs should look and see them with so little human impact.

I had also never been in an area of sea with quite so many jumping things! We would regularly see shoals of flying fish all break for the surface simultaneously, bait ball boiling the surface, a few sportfish, such as sailfish leaping into the air and once, a flying squid (I kid you not! Genuinely happened). So prolific were flying sea creatures that after a dive my dive buddy, Candace, was hit in the face by a needlefish!

The trip to Djibouti was filled with so many unexpected experiences, the extreme heat, Martian desert landscape, and just crazy marine life. It just goes to show how much there is to see in this world. I definitely rediscovered my travel bug! Next stop, the Maldives…

Deli

The Crew

Morning in the Ghoubet

Me on Mars

The Crack!

Friendly grouper says hey