Miburani

We've been really excited about Mafia Island for a while now, and today, as a little belated birthday treat for Chris, we're heading there.

To reach the island from Dar Es Salaam there are two options. First, you can catch a bus to a small village a few hours south, then a boat across the ocean. Or, there’s a 30-minute flight. Now, our first instinct was to go with the boat, as we had planned not to fly anywhere in Africa. However, the stories were heard about the boat were more than enough to put us off. People told us of delays and engine problems, of being stuck out in the ocean, of not having any safety measures, of being crammed into a tiny wooden boat with too few lifejackets. Et cetera, et cetera. We decided to take the flight, despite it being more expensive. It was Chris' birthday after all, and not dying at the bottom of the ocean would be his birthday present.

The flight is an experience in and of itself. We board a tiny plane, reminiscent of a minibus with wings, and Katie is invited to sit in the co-pilots seat. The plane was “open-plan”, meaning that the passengers aren’t separated from the captain and our new co-pilot. After the pilot delivers a short safety demonstration, he turns to Katie, points at the console and says “don’t touch that”. Chris notices Katie’s face being decorated by a look that screamed “now that you’ve told me that I can’t touch anything, I definitely want to touch it”. Luckily, the precious controls remained untouched by Katie’s inexperienced flying hands, and we land safely.

When we arrive at Afro Beach Bungalows- the premier spot to swim with Whale Sharks- we’re upgraded from our usual camping to a thatched bungalow. Nice. Or maybe not, as during the night, our room is invaded by massive flying cockroaches. We can hear them first, click-clacking their way through the thatched walls, before they drop down with a surprising thud, and make a bee-line straight for our mosquito net. They’re dropping out of the walls and coming into our mosquito net (it’s one of those pointless nets that has an opening at the side), and no matter how many we manage to flick out the door with a flip-flop, they keep coming. We opt resume our camping life, and get in our tent.

The next morning, we’re off out with the sharks. As usual, we’re told by the crew that sightings aren’t guaranteed, but it’s a good time of year to spot them, as they’re migrating south to escape the northern winter. As we head out to sea, we’re given our briefing. If we see a shark, we should stay in the boat, and one of the crew will lower themselves into the water. If they determine that it’s safe to swim, only then should we enter the water.

At this point, the excitement is mixed in with fear. Is it dangerous? Could these animals, which can grow up to 18 metres, pose a threat to us tiny humans? We don’t get much time to think dwell on it, as we quickly see a whale shark. The crew shout- with what I would call reckless abandon- “there’s a shark, quickly, jump in!” Without further ado, we’re plunging into the water, in the midst of a quite a few sharks.

It’s an unparalleled rush. Here we are in the ocean, completely out of our element, swimming around with these huge creatures. Our guide directs us to areas where the sharks will pass by, and we get within metres of them. We’re careful not to make contact, as our touch can wipe of precious mucus from the bodies of the sharks, exposing them to infection. This can be a little tricky, as the Whale Sharks are curious creatures that swim right up to us.

Another obstacle comes in the form of a blanket of jellyfish, floating just below the surface of the water. Thousands of egg-sized jellies wash over us, bouncing off our faces, falling into our hands and brushing against every inch of our bodies. Luckily, they don’t sting. But it is, frankly, a gross sensation. Larger, more dangerous jellyfish lurk in the depths, but fortunately they are easily avoided.

At one point, our guide makes a slight misjudgement on the trajectory of a particularly large shark. We end up separated from him by a few metres of open ocean, and the shark turns towards us. It’s heading directly towards us, its huge gaping mouth threatening to suck Chris up. He frantically tries to push Katie out of the way, but that's met with shouts of “I can’t see! I can’t see!”. The shark is swimming closer and closer, and with a last gasp of strength Chris pushes Katie aside and it glides just past us. The guide checks to see if we’re ok, and we just about manage a thumbs-up. Czytaj więcej