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Manta Ray
A Manta Ray, photo courtesy of Tofo Scuba: http://www.tofoscuba.co.za Below the surface of the ocean, a diver's senses are more aware.
The only sounds you hear are the hissing of your air regulator and the bubbles gurgling out and up, eventually to the surface. Occasionaly another diver gently knocks into you and you feel their fins, or your own fins graze a piece of rock or coral. Light loses its colors the deeper you descend, so it's easy to see that you're diving deeper because objects turn a dark blue or gray. Most of the time when descending the water turns colder and when going up, the water is warmer.
But on one occasion a few weeks ago, something caught me completely by surprise. I was more than 60 feet below the surface of the Indian Ocean. A warm, yellow light made its way from the surface, turning the water a bright blue. I wasn't moving, just taking in the sights. But then, out of nowhere, everything started to go black. Instantly everything around me was gloomy, including my mood. I looked around at the other divers. I listened. I heard nothing. The water temperature was the same as it was a few minutes ago. But nonetheless, a chill enveloped me.
Eventually, I looked up. No more than 20 feet away from me was one of the most incredible sights I have ever seen. It was a massive manta ray, with a wingspan of more than 15 feet long. From tip to tip, it could have been 20 feet across. Its wings gently moved up and down as it circled me. Its body cast a deep dark shadow on me and the seabed. As I stared, my heart raced and I saw in the corners of my eyes other divers eventually turn their gaze. It circled us a few times and then faded off into the distance, into the waters of Tofo, Mozambique, which is famous for its mantas and whale sharks. I had gone through a lot of air, staring at this great creature, so I slowly began my ascent. Just a few minutes later, out of the blue, I could see another manta. Then another. Soon enough, there were a half-dozen of them circling around me. Some were above, blocking the light. Others were below me, getting rid of parasites with the help of cleaner fish. I floated below the surface for another 20 minutes, just staring at the beams of yellow light making their way down to the mantas. Eventually it was time for me to head up to the surface as my tank was almost out of air.
With four dives at Tofo, I was thrilled with what I saw, even beyond the Mantas. Turtles, sharks, tuna and hundreds of types of colorful fish were everywhere. But the manta dive was my best ever. Sarah was lucky enough to snorkel with a 15-foot whale shark. At one point, its massive mouth (used for plankton only, she was told) was headed right towards her. She narrowly escaped with a few quick kicks of her fins and a last-minute diversion by the whale shark. In our "down time" we surfed in the warm Indian Ocean water, and bartered with the local fisherman and prawn ladies for our dinner. The going rate for a dozen as-fresh-as-it-gets and as-big-as-I've-seen prawns was about $3. By the end of our stay in Tofo, we got the prawn ladies down to about $2 for a dozen. "Ahhhh, Sistah! You're getting better," one of them said to Sarah on our last day there.
Sadly, Mozambique is not all about frolicking in the water and eating prawns near the beach. The country is still recovering from a 30-year civil war. One-legged people are all-too-common a sight, presumably the victims of land mines. The police will literally give you a ticket because you are white and then pocket the money. They, of course, use the excuse that the reflective stickers on your car are too small (or too large) or out of place. Safety triangles for cars are mandatory. As are fire extinguishers. And the police check, regularly! Funny, though, that the police could care less that our beloved Land Rover was broken into twice -- once for a flashlight and my glasses, and once for Sarah's sneakers. Poverty is rampant and the Mozambiquans live by their survival instincts.
We gave our "donation" to the police and headed north to Malawi, sad to say goodbye to the marine life, but happy to leave the corrupt police.
In Malawi, we were greeted by the friendliest people on our travels so far. The so-called "Warm Heart of Africa" lived up to its reputation. The police stopped us dozens of times, only to ask us where we were headed and to tell us to enjoy their country. "Mzungu! Mzungu!," the locals would scream with both hands in the air and a smile cheek to cheek. (Translation: Mzungu is a white person). Luckily, we found two Brits who had been eyeing our Land Rover for more than a month on their travels. They wanted to do the opposite trek that we did. We agreed to a price and a date and sold them the truck. We were sad to see her go, but my bank account is dwindling and the timing was right.
In Lake Malawi, we snorkeled often. Bright blue and yellow ciclid fish were everywhere. On one scuba dive in the lake I saw a three-foot long catfish. We stared each other down, nose-to-nose, but I lost, realizing that I would eventually lose that competition. I also tried my luck at spear-fishing. We joined two other travelers, Berns and Hilda, who loved the water and were keen to give me a spearfishing lesson. Berns, a white South African with dredlocks and a five-month-old beard, taught me how it's done. Needless to say, the four of us ate fresh fish every night for about a week on Likoma and Chizimulu islands. Most, if not all, of the fish were shot by Berns.
On one dive in the lake I saw a strange raised mark on a rock, about 50-feet deep. It was oval-shaped and about 10 inches across. There were two raised lines through the center. The local divers say it resembles some hieroglyphics seen in Egypt and Ethiopia. To me it looked like a rudimentary carving of a space ship. Maybe it is a natural formation. It looked manmade, but who's to say. Perhaps the catfish know.
Off to Tanzania, this time by local transport. We will miss you, Landy.
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clive
non-member comment
Great!
Best blog yet!