DYNAMITE
and
deception
Tourist brochures are there to talk up a country's attractions. But when Brendan O'Brien went diving in the murky waters off Sri Lanka, he wondered whether he had gone to the right place
"Hikkaduwa, Sri Lanka. A guarded secret... a fascinating submarine wonderland of gorgeously coloured corals, tropical fish and submerged ship wrecks... in clear blue waters."
So said the Sri Lankan Tourist Board's brochure, its front cover displaying a photograph of a diver examining a vast sponge and sea fan in crystal clear water.
Dreaming of discovering an alternative to the nearby Maldives, I visited Sri Lanka with my partner, keen to experience its "submarine wonderland".
Propeller hazard
It seemed right to start in Hikkaduwa, a coastal village only 60 miles from the island's capital, Colombo. There we met Valerie Ekanayake, who runs Underwater Safaris with her husband, Hector. Since the 1950s they have been involved in Sri Lanka's diving industry and are considered to be the island's diving pioneers.
The dive boat was our first surprise. It was a small converted fishing boat with a little diesel engine.
After a 45-minute journey we arrived at our first site, the wreck of the Conch. This was one of Shell's first oil tankers, which sank in 1903 after hitting rocks. As we dropped under the surface, visibility was no more than 4m. This was not what we were expecting; where was the "clear blue water"?
At a depth of 20m, the half-buried propeller came into view. We tried to examine its limited invertebrate growth, despite a heavy surge doing its best to impale us on the blades.
We gave up and, hoping to escape the surge, entered the hull through a small hole, where we joined hundreds of sweepers, several large snapper and a menacing-looking grouper.
We went on to explore the area beyond the wreck. On the rocks and boulders there were sea fans and soft corals, but I wouldn't go as far as describing them as "a fascinating submarine wonderland".
The reef was not much to look at, but, like the wreck, it was home to plenty of fish. Joining us in the surge were angelfish, snappers, sweetlips, two spotted moray eels and a shoal of longfin bannerfish, with their zebralike stripes.
The exhilaration of the unpredictable surge and our disappointed expectations left us with mixed feelings. This wasn't what the brochure had promised, but then again, it was only our first dive.
Marine sanctuary?
Our second was on the nearby wreck of an unknown schooner lying in 15m. Parts of the bow and stern stood upright; everything in between had long since collapsed. The visibility was a cloudy 4m but the marine life was good. Shoals of mono - a strange-looking, diamond-shaped fish - hovered around the stern, and on our journey to the bow a vast shoal of barracuda slowly emerged through the sediment-laden water, as if lost in a heavy fog.
On the boat ride back to the dive shop we came across an unusually acrid smell. Valerie explained its origin to us: "What you can smell is coral being burnt. The locals mine it from the ocean for building materials." I looked at the coastline's beaches, headlands and palms and wondered how long it would all last without the reef's protective barrier.
The next day Raja, the centre's divemaster, promised us a dive in the Hikkaduwa Marine Sanctuary. As the boat took us into open water I asked him what the boundaries of the sanctuary were. He replied with a sweep of his arm, indicating that we were in it. And the sanctuary's rules? The question went unanswered.
The site was an underwater pinnacle which starts in 15m and drops to 28. The top of it was almost devoid of invertebrate life, other than a thin layer of sponge growth. If the visibility had been better than the 5m we experienced, it would have been an incredible view.
As we dropped down the sides of the pinnacle's almost vertical walls, we witnessed a steady increase in the variety of marine growth.
At the base we found clumps of black coral and small sea fans in blue, orange and red. For our ascent we circumnavigated the pinnacle, checking out its nudibranch communities and coral polyps. At one point a vast shoal of silver and brown fusiliers hurtled past us like a heavy waterfall. Unfortunately, that was all there was of fish life.
Power failure
Back on the boat Raja explained that the lack of marine growth on the pinnacle's peak was due to strong currents. As this is normally the cause of invertebrate growth, I suspected that repeated anchoring might be a more precise explanation.
Back on shore it got worse. I came across a newspaper article on Hikkaduwa's dynamite fishing, and the effect it was having on the environment. One of the divemasters later told me that it doesn't affect divers because "the fishermen always tell you to get out of the water before they dynamite". How reassuring!
After leaving Hikkaduwa we headed south along a picturesque coastline to the Club Dickwella Village, a small resort tucked behind a palm-fringed beach.
Its dive shop is run by Alex, an English-speaking Dutchman. His boat is a small skiff with a 25hp engine, which seriously limits how many people he can take out. I ask him why he can't buy something bigger. He laughs and says: "We had to get permission off several government ministries to buy this engine, otherwise we'd be restricted to a 15hp. They think we'll go gun-running for the Tigers!"
He goes on to tell me about the superb off shore reefs that would be accessible with a bigger boat. But now we have to be content with a 40m-long cargo ship lying on a sandy bottom in 25m. The rumour is that it was scuttled in the 1950s, after outliving its usefulness.
Unfortunately the visibility is a milky 5m, though this doesn't detract from the huge shoals of snapper and the angelfish, batfish and giant grouper that call this oasis home. On the deck there is some impressive invertebrate life - plenty of corals and sea fans in green and orange.
As we potter back, Alex looks at the shoreline. "This isn't somewhere you'd come on a diving holiday," he says. "You come for the beaches, the beautiful coastline, for the culture and maybe a little diving." I knew where he was coming from. This was the reason for my disappointment so far. I had expected a diving holiday and it didn't fit that label.
For the next few days we journeyed through the interior, visiting tea plant-ations, waterfalls, mountains, temples and shrines. Many of the hotels are a journey back to the colonial times. I was beginning to fall for Sri Lanka's charms.
Eventually we arrived at the coastal village of Negombo for the last leg of the trip. We chose the dive shop at the Blue Ocean Hotel, where we had heard that the manager, Franz, had some novel ways of getting around the government regulations. The boat was the same size as the others we had experienced, but the engine seemed to push us through the water faster. A grinning Franz explained: "It's a black market 55hp engine."
He is past caring about the regulations; all he cares about is getting his customers to the reef he visits 20km out from shore. As we near the site the water blues up and loses its brown murkiness. Franz explains that in many parts of Sri Lanka you have to get far away from the shoreline because of the river's run-off.
At last we find the good visibility we had sought. In the reef's coral heads we find hundreds of Christmas tree worms in a multitude of colours. In the cracks and holes we find more than 20 moray eels. There are shoals of tierra batfish, snapper and numerous varieties of angelfish.
Although this dive raises our estimation of Sri Lanka's diving, this reef still wouldn't provide enough variety for a diving holiday. For a morning out, however, it was perfect.
Trick photography
And what of the Hikkaduwa Marine Sanctuary? I would rate the diving as OK and nothing more. Visibility can reach 20m, but it's a hit-and-miss affair, with no guarantees. The sanctuary would be better named the Hikkaduwa destruction zone, with its irresponsible fishing techniques, clear lack of direction and lack of enforcement. A real marine sanctuary is what the area desperately needs.
So, what of the glossy brochure's marine photographs? I took a closer look. At the bottom of the photograph was the obvious give-away that in my enthusiasm I had missed. In the background was a grey angelfish, resident of the Caribbean and not the Indian Ocean. I couldn't believe how easily I had been taken in.
Despite this, Sri Lanka does have a lot of diving potential. Much of the island's best diving on the east coast is out-of-bounds because of the security problems. And until the problems have been solved, journeys to the outer reefs are practically impossible.
The government needs to act now to look after its reefs. If it doesn't take greater care of its surrounding ocean, there could come a time when there is nothing left to protect.
FACTFILE
GETTING THERE: Air Lanka flies daily from Heathrow direct to Colombo.
DIVING: For those who want a beautiful, cultural holiday with some diving on the way. Visibility is variable, but can be up to 20m. Dive boats are very poor.
WHEN TO GO: The diving season is December to early April in the south and west. The rest of the year is subject to monsoon and heavy onshore winds, making diving practically impossible.
ACCOMMODATION: Foreign currency is very strong against the Sri Lankan rupee, making the comfort of a five-star hotel very affordable. Highly recommended are the Lighthouse Hotel in Gale (for Hikkaduwa), Club Dickwella Village (a bit like a mini Club Med), St Andrews Hotel in Nuwara Eliya (inland) and the Royal Oceanic Hotel in Negombo. The Barefoot Traveller (0181 741 4319) can organise a package to suit individual needs.
GETTING AROUND: Don't think of hiring a car as the roads are a traffic nightmare. A chauffeur-driven van or car can be hired during your stay for the cost of a hire car elsewhere.
MONEY: The Sri Lankan rupee is available only once on the island. Take US$ travellers' cheques or cash. Larger hotels and shops accept credit cards.
TRAVEL ADVISORY: Consult the government's warning for travellers to Sri Lanka. The country is still in conflict with the Tamil Tigers in the North.
Appeared in DIVER - May 1999
