Manta Ray Morning
Spending the morning snorkelling with Manta Rays in Fiji, well worth getting out of bed for!
It’s 5.30am and I’m already awake and more excited than the
clichéd child at Christmas. My wife is still asleep beside me so I move as
quietly as I can onto the balcony in front of our tiny bure. It’s dawn and the
jungle around me is still buzzing with the noise of cicadas and other insects
hidden in the dense foliage, but my ears tune them out. I am listening for the
sound of the beating of the big drum that sits on the pristine beach in front
of the bar where we enjoyed our sundowners the previous night.
It’s 6.30am and I can hear other restless souls moving
towards the communal ablutions block and see shapes moving through the murk. I
decide to wander down to the beach, worried that the sound, which also
successfully summons us nightly to dinner, might not have carried through the
dense jungle. The beach is abandoned so I take a seat on a lounger and watch
the sun emerge above the horizon and the small boats criss crossing the
channels between the tiny islands. It’s idyllic, but not why I’m here and I
start to feel the sinking disappointment felt on a whaleless whale watching
tour. I wander back to the bure to see if my wife is awake and break the news.
7.15am, I’ve climbed back into bed and am drifting off
when,”boom,boom da boom”, the deep rhythmic note of the drum has me out of bed
and half way down the path before remembering I need my snorkel gear and towel.
Nonetheless I’m still first in the queue to sign my waiver and climb into the
longtail boat which minutes later is whisking us out across gentle waves to the
deep, fast flowing channel between two nearby islands, where the plankton rich
waters mean the Mantas gather at high tide to feed.
I’m
in the water at 7.45am, floating 20 metres above an extensive reef. The
visibility is good, although the sheer amount of plankton has turned it a
little soupy. We are drifting with the tide enjoying viewing the reef fish,
when a Manta glides effortlessly beneath us before “barrel rolling” towards the
surfaces, great jaws agape, and then disappears trailing bubbles from the
surface. Minutes later two more are in front of us, one black and one white,
weaving an elegant dance, the harmony of their movement in contrast to their
chessboard colour difference. The Mantas are inquisitive and unperturbed by
their visitors, their grace and ease of movement humiliate us as we struggle,
cough, splutter and strain to stand still in the current before eventually
giving in and drifting back to our pick up boat once more. We repeat the
process a couple of times and the views are equally phenomenal but my abiding
memory will be my first view of these beautiful, graceful creatures
gliding beneath me and reminding me that
I do not belong in their realm
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