Tales of a Maldives Virgin - Part I

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cooperscuba

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Stephen King once published an online novel. The first chapter was free but for the subsequent chapters, Stephen then wanted people to donate a small amount of money based on what they thought the first chapter was worth. If he (Stephen) deemed the response was positive enough, he would then write and publish the second chapter and then repeat the process again. If enough people liked the story, it would be completed, if not … well it would remain uncompleted.

This struck me at the time as almost genius; how many books have you bought that either you started but didn't finish or did finish and thought "What a waste of money!"? How disappointing for an author who has laboured long and hard on a publication, to see it published and ridiculed or simply not sell? Personally I don't know the answer to that as I don't believe I know any published authors, but judging by the amount of books I've tossed aside, I reckon the answer is lots. What a better way to work! Publish piecemeal and if people like it, keep going or, if not, stop and go and do something else instead.

So I've decided to try a similar experiment, but without seeking monetary reward, and far fewer 'chapters', and no mention of monsters, vampires, ghouls or demons (unless I really get off-topic). There are some points about diving I hope to make, even if they are not self-evident to begin with, and my tale is set in the Maldives, not Maine, which is why I'm burying it down in Scubaboard's 'General Travel and Vacation Discussions' forum.

It is, alas, a true tale and, above all, I hope some people will chuckle over my Maldives Adventure.

Best wishes,
Sean aka cooperscuba


TALES OF A MALDIVES VIRGIN - PART I


I first visited the Republic of the Maldives in 1998 for a two week vacation during the final stages of FIFA’s World Cup which was being held that year in France. The previous year I had completed SSI’s Open Water Diver course, and my plan this trip was to make an Advanced Open Water course and then dive for 7 or 8 additional days in one of the Meccas of the diving world. Fantastic!

The Republic of the Maldives, or ‘The Maldives’ as the republic is more commonly called, consists of 26 atolls in the middle of the Indian Ocean, orientated north-south, located on top of the Chagos-Maldives-Laccadive Ridge, a vast submarine mountain range in the Indian Ocean. The Maldives is a small republic (yet, because of its geographical nature, is also one of the most geographically dispersed countries in the world) with a population of less than 350,000 (according to a 2012 census).

It isn’t just small in terms of its population count either; The Republic of Maldives doesn’t possess a domestic football league not because they’re all rubbish at the game (which has never stopped Scotland or England fielding teams) but because none of the islands are big enough for a pitch (plus getting the teams together on the weekends would be a logistical nightmare). Famous for it’s gorgeous coral islands with soft, white sand (there are approximately 1200 islands, depending on the tide, and of these slightly less than 200 are inhabited), beautiful reefs and lagoons, large and numerous pelagic marine life, and roller coaster currents - who wouldn’t want to dive there?


Except for a short 3 hour day trip, and arrival or departures at the International airport (the only airport the Maldives actually possess), foreigners are not allowed to stay on Male island. Therefore all the hotel resorts are scattered over the hundreds of tiny islands. For transfers from Male to your chosen island there is usually a choice of either flying in a small seaplane or by boat; as I had a tight budget, I had to elect for the latter.


The holiday representative, Lara, of the tour company I’d booked with was on time, waiting outside the airport with a handful of other guests, and we were all onboard our transfer boat within 30 minutes of my clearing customs. So far, so good. Reethi Ra Resort (which shouldn’t be confused with the Reethi Ra Island), my island of choice, was 3-4 hours from Male (depending on the sea and wind), so after complimentary drinks and a snack, Lara suggested we all “chill out and rest”.

About two hours in to the journey my holiday plans started unravelling, albeit very slowly to begin with, as our boat’s engine developed a “small, technical problem”, according to Lara, “which the boat crew are currently fixing”, she told us, accompanied by the sound of an engine being hit with what was probably a hammer. An hour later the crew were still hitting the engine, which surprisingly still wasn’t working, the resort island had dispatched some boats to aid us (which thankfully were in sight by now), and, as it was the monsoon season, a strong wind with accompanying rain had started blowing and falling almost as soon as we stopped, and had me almost in the drink with a wind assisted plastic deck chair; but I was still happy, I was diving the next day - Yay!

Once the two rescue boats arrived we found that one was, relatively speaking, a fast dhoni (a traditional Maldivian boat), the other a large speedboat with two enormous outboard motors, which I naturally gravitated towards and found that, even though the boat was almost full, the two prime seats located in the corners at the stern were completely empty - Thinking “What a result! Get in there, my son” I boarded her.

There’s no such thing as a free lunch, I should have realized this at the time and, with retrospect, I should have given more thought regarding the other passengers who were digging out clothes with a waterproof nature and putting them on.

“Ah! that explains a great deal”, I thought as the first wave, of what actually turned out to be the first of a great many, crashed over me. Within a minute of the skipper opening the throttle, I was soaked.

“At least I can’t get any wetter”, I joked with a few of the guests.

Which, as it happens, wasn’t correct; there are levels of soaked that I didn’t know existed until that day, with each level accompanied by a strong slap in the face of salt water. Ten more minutes in to the journey, and I’d now discovered the answer to the question “What do you get if you combine wet clothes and a strong wind?”. If you’re more stupid than me, and God Bless you (and God help you) if you are, the answer is “F**king cold”.

Eventually, and only a couple of hours later than anticipated, we arrived at the Reethi Ra Resort, with a certain passenger making a ‘squelch’ sound with every shaking step, trailing puddles everywhere, and a rigor mortice-like grin and bare it look. I was wet and I was cold, cold to the bone cold, and not really a happy bunny anymore but I consoled myself with the idea that all I needed was a warm shower, some dry clothes and everything would be hunky dory again.

Which, as it happens, did not happen quite as I had hoped.

All our luggage was still on our original vessel, which was going to be towed to the island ... by the same bloody speedboat that had just dropped us off; a minimum of one hour’s travel back to the distressed boat, and then a “Maldivian hour” back again to Reethi Ra (which translated in to 3 hours in GMT). With time to kill, and no dry clothes to replace my sodden attire, I decided to strip off, towel off, and then get my head down for an hour or so, so set my alarm and nodded off.



I awoke some time later a little freaked out; I’d been having a weird and disconcerting dream involving my reflection in a mirror and hundreds of millipedes burrowing just below my skin, leaving strange tatoo-like patterns on my face. “Phew!”, I gasped once I’d realized my body hadn’t been invaded, “that was a bit bizarre”.

And then I noticed an ant.

A large ant.

A very large ant.

A very large ant sitting on my bed cover.

A soldier ant, I deduced from its very large mandibles and the fact one of its many brethren, who had also joined me in bed, had just bitten in to my leg.

“What the ... ? Arrgh! Getthemoffme! Getthemoffme!”, I yelled to no one in particular.

Despite the surprise attack, and due to my ability to leap from a bed in a single bound even when draped in a sheet, I ended with just two bites and soldier ants scattered to the six corners of my room (it was L-shaped). The shower room was where the ants had infiltrated my banana-leaf roofed hut, via the drainage point in the shower. Literally in the shower cubicle was a defensive circle of soldiers surrounding a large swollen ant (presumably their queen), and loads of workers ants either carrying eggs out the drain, or attending to their monarch. It was a humbling example of animal co-ordination in the face of adversity, so I told the queen so, wished them all the best, gave my apologies and flushed them straight back down the drain they had so industriously surmounted. Battle of the strongest and all that. I like watching the wildlife as much as the next person but feel there is a line that creatures , and insects ... especially insects ... shouldn’t cross and that includes both bedding down with me and trying to eat me.

Apart from waking to discover the ants invasion, I also found my suitcase had appeared outside my hut, so was able to finally dress in some dry clothes. After popping to the islands little supermarket and purchasing anything baring the words “insect”, “repellant”, and “kill”, after deploying a 2-inch wide strip of powdered poison around my bed, after checking for any unwanted visitors in my bed, I eventually decided to call it a day with the mantra of “Tomorrow has to be better. Got to be better, stands to reason that. Must be better. I’m off diving. Yay! Happy days! I’m diving tomorrow. It has to be better”, running through my head.

Which, as it happens, wasn’t completely true ...
 
KEEP WRITING! (But with the next installment, I'll know enough to cover my keyboard.)
 
The story is off to a great start! Can't wait to read the rest.


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Keep going, kept me on this post to the last sentence


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Well, were waiting for part II.
 
https://www.shearwater.com/products/swift/

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