Life's A Beach

Getting there - the Rufiji Delta from the air

Getting there part 2: transport across Songo Songo Island to get to the boat that will take us to Fanjove

Got there! Fanjove Island

Warm, crystal-clear water laps at a white, white beach fringed by graceful coconut palms.  The colour palette ranges from palest turquoise to deep, deep blue as I gaze out to sea.

At night, we set off in search of coconut crabs, monsters straight out of a really bad sic-fi movie, capable of scaling a palm tree, cutting down a coconut then climbing down and eating the prize.  (If you’ve ever tried getting into a coconut, you’ll know just how big a deal this last bit is, even if you gloss over the tree climbing and the rest of it.)

And they’re huge: up to a metre (over 3 foot) from leg tip to leg tip, and weighing in at over 4kg (9lbs).  (For an idea of just how big they get, click here)

We wander around in suitable habitat, shining our torches – there!  We find one in the act of peeling a coconut, thrusting its claws between the nut and husk to push the husk off.  It doesn’t mind our presence too much, and we see that it is a gravid female, with lots of eggs under her tail.  November is spawning time in this part of the world,  so with luck she will make her way down to the water in the coming days to release all those eggs into the waves.

She isn’t huge: a couple of pounds at a guess, but what an extraordinary creature, and what a privilege! 

Underwater, more marvels await.  Before this, I’d only ever seen such oddities as Shrimpfish, Leaf Fish and Snake Eel in books or documentaries, but here they all were.  (Click to see what a Shrimpfish looks like...)

There were also decent numbers of live shells, a rarity along much of the Tanzanian coast these days.  I saw several Tiger Cowries as well as Spider Conch, Helmet Conch and many species of cones and Money Cowries.

We get lucky with scary stuff too: there’s a pair of Leaf Fish hiding in plain view, exactly the same colour and texture as the coral around it; under a nearby coral overhang, there’s a pair of Lionfish, all floaty fins and long, elegant spines.  A Scorpionfish lies on a chunk of coral, pale blue just like his background (some species can change colour to match their surroundings).  Later on, poking around in the shallows, I spy a rapid movement.  I can’t make anything out at first, just a curved line, an oddity of texture.  Then it leaps into focus - a Stonefish looking just like the coral rubble it lives in.  This gives pause for thought: I’m barefoot and these things are all but impossible to see.  I tiptoe gingerly back to the beach…

But it’s not just about the scary venomous critters: we see several Decorator Crabs, who 'plant' tufts and drapes of algae on their carapaces as camouflage.  This works just fine until they start walking across the bottom, an unlikely mobile patch of weed.  (In some parts of the world, they stick bits of rubbish onto their backs to achieve the same effect.  A very modern adaptation...)  

A shoal of squid hovers in the clear water, keeping a wary eye on me.  When I move my hand they zoom off into the blue.

A pile of broken mussel shells near a hole alerts me to the presence of a bandit.  As I fin closer, a lump detaches itself from the seabed and tiptoes bashfully into the hole, blushing at being discovered: an octopus surrounded by leftovers.

All is not entirely well though: a dearth of larger reef fish (Parrotfish, larger wrasses, Sweetlips and Groupers) is an indication of overfishing over the years.

Later, on a dive on the outer reef slope, I drift over a magical kaleidoscope of different corals, a mesmerising array of colour, form and texture – a gorgeous, healthy coral reef. 

All of a sudden, the fairytale underwater garden is no more, replaced by rubble, the majestic architecture laid low, all colour gone: a drab wasteland in beige. 

This is what dynamiting does.  Fishermen trying to make a quick buck blast the reef.  Stunned and dead fish float to the surface, where they are easily harvested; a great way to earn a living, no? EXCEPT that there is enormous collateral damage: the blast kills the reef, which is a living organism, vital for future generations of coral fish; it also wipes out large numbers of fish fry, the basis of those self-same ‘future generations’; and effectively kills off the current parent stock so necessary for regeneration.  So, not exactly a model of ‘sustainable utilisation’ – yet another example of how our species mistreats marine environments worldwide.

The owners of Fanjove are working with local communities to try to bring an end to dynamite fishing and overfishing, to bring the reefs surrounding the island back to their former glory.  This will be a long process, but a vital one.

Sadly, my camera shuffled off its mortal coil while diving, it becoming rapidly apparent that the waterproof housing wasn't totally, err, waterproof. I was inclined to be a touch miffed, until kind Jenny pointed out that it was rated to a mere 5 metres depth.....

In the meantime, do yourself a favour: grab your snorkelling gear (or a bucket and spade) and get yourself to Fanjove - you'll love it!

Island living