LIFE
OVER
DEATH
The havoc wrought on reefs by that international terrorist El Niño shocked John Bantin when he visited the Maldives. Diving may never be the same again in the Indian Ocean, but for experienced divers there is life after death
One of the problems underwater photographers can have - and there are many - is their inability to stick a second or third roll of film into a camera during a dive.
Imagine waiting for a manta to turn up at a cleaning station at Madivaru, and shooting half a roll of film before being able to turn to the nurse shark that is snuggling up to your leg.
Imagine the frustration of having to sit it out for a further 40 minutes while three more mantas arrive and engage in an exuberant display of aquatic ballet (bloody show-offs), and you with no way of recording a single moment of this magic.
Imagine the frustration, too, at using up all your film on close-ups of feeding whitetip reef sharks and sleeping turtles at Maaya Thila, site of probably the world's most frenetic night dive, only to then witness an encounter between a free-swimming, hunting moray eel and an exceedingly large, feeding, marble ray - and with no way left to record it.
Imagine waiting at the current point of the reef at Fish Head while grey reef sharks circle round, only for them to come right up to the camera once they know the 36th frame has been shot. Imagine trying to photograph a large pufferfish with the final frame while an eagle ray circles round your head - much to the amusement of the other divers from the boat.
Imagine running out of pedal-power as well as film at Maamigili while the missus is out there swimming and cavorting with a whaleshark.
It's a catalogue of disasters, but fortunately there was so much going on in the Maldives that I had plenty of good photographic luck too. And it all happened in the space of a few days.
For me, diving in the Maldives has always consisted of action dives, down at the current points on thilas (isolated underwater reefs) and reef corners, where channels let water in and out of the atolls, often in an irresistible and ferocious flow.
Outward ocean currents tend to be milder but the quality of the water turbid, while inward currents are clear and fast-flowing. Seasons, ocean currents, atoll topography, as well as phases of the moon all contribute to the equation, so few can anticipate just what the water will be doing - and it can change dramatically during a dive.
However, there are those for whom a Maldives holiday represents a palm-fringed tropical island idyll. Some people decide to try diving merely as a diversion from other, less energetic, holiday pastimes. And these newcomers to the sport as well as plenty of more advanced coral-lovers ask for nothing more than to do shallow reef-top dives, and enjoy looking at the pretty fish and stupendous coral reefs.
And why not? you might ask. The answer is that things have changed dramatically for this category of diver in the Maldives, and it has happened during the past 12 months. All the hard corals in the Maldives are dead.
Yes, you read it right. The hard corals of the Maldives, the very backbone of the reef system, are no longer alive. They are deceased. Not resting. As dead as Monty Python's parrot.
It's a similar story throughout the Indo-Pacific region, to varying degrees. When I first read news of this ecological disaster in a national paper I dismissed it as journalistic sensationalism. How could 95 per cent of the world's coral be dead?
If the Maldives are anything to go by, it could easily be true. Last time I visited that part of the world was March 1998. I was surprised then by the poor visibility.
The water seemed unusually warm; I remembered previously chilling in anything less than a full wetsuit, but it was around 30*C even at depth. A year later the local sea temperature had reached 32*C. It was a result of El Nino.
The next thing that happened was that the corals expelled all the algae that lives in symbiosis with it. It is these algae that give the coral its colour. By May last year, the Maldivian reefs were looking like an Italian wedding cake, with all the coral in delicate shades of white, pink and palest blue.
Everyone hoped the corals would recover, but by September things were looking bleak. Other algae, slimy and encrusting types, were seen to be moving in. The hard corals still had their form in all their previous and glorious variety, but the living element, the part that grows on the calciferous skeleton and holds it all together, was missing.
By March this year there were already signs of corals crumbling. I joined Sea Queen, a live-aboard recently acquired by Maldives Scuba Tours, a long-time Maldives operator, to visit Mulaku (Meemu) and Nilandhoo (Dhaalu and Faafu) to the South. Both of these atolls are newly opened for tourism. It was a devastating experience.
The boat was excellent, but the reefs were obviously dead. For mile after mile, they were as dead as the Valley of the Kings. It was depressing. I nearly gave up the diving and settled down with a book instead.
As it happened, reef fish still abounded, despite the damage to the hard corals. In fact the reefs seemed almost infested with redmouth triggerfish. Larger titan triggerfish crunched their way through dead coral in search of some sustenance. Parrotfish swarmed like locusts. All the algae-eaters seemed to be thriving, almost unnaturally so.
Bannerfish formed massed bands and paraded. Snappers shoaled. Sweetlips gathered in groups. Groupers formed gangs. There were teams of batfish. But the hard coral was dead, and it won't come magically back to life again.
New coral may seed and grow, but it will probably take 50 years before it can be seen again in its previous profusion. The faster-growing soft coral seems to be making a comeback in some places, where the currents are strong and the light favourable. Soft corals that grow under overhangs are still in evidence.
We headed north to more familiar territory, to Ari atoll, to Madivaru, and back to both North and South Male atolls. The story was the same.
The hard corals were dead, but the diving was otherwise fantastic. Sharks, manta rays, marbled rays (especially the friendly ones on the Halaveli wreck), sting rays and eagle rays, moray eels, turtles - there was no shortage of these species.
It is still worth making that early-morning bluewater dive at Madivaru hoping for an encounter with the hammerheads. It's just that the reef has lost its vibrancy, something you'll notice if you get involved in long deco-stops.
It has become a question of re-focusing on what you go to the Maldives for, and it is the advanced dives that still offer the action and the satisfaction.
In my opinion, you now need to book onto a live-aboard to get the necessary variety. Being tied to a single island resort will result in frustration, or a return to the sunbed and a good supply of novels.
QUEENING IT
Live-aboard dive boat mv Sea Queen is operated by Maldives Scuba Tours, which established itself with mv Keema. Sea Queen is a locally built, 23m vessel with ensuite accommodation for 12 passengers in twin or double cabins. There is a large sun-deck, saloon, a covered outside dining area, and a licence to serve alcoholic drinks. Onboard E6 processing and VCR facilities are available.
Although there is a stern dive platform and small inflatable tender, diving is normally done from the 12m fully equipped auxilliary dhoni that accompanies Sea Queen. Passengers' diving equipment stays aboard this vessel, which carries the compressor and 22 cylinders. The local crew work under the guidance of the resident European manager.
Maldives Scuba Tours 01449 780220
Appeared in DIVER - April 1999
