By Nadin Hadi. Photos by One Ocean.
Whether you’re visiting or living in Tanzania, there’s a set of unwritten rules of things to do while you’re here; go on safari, climb Mount Kilimanjaro, visit Zanzibar. When you arrive in Zanzibar, there’s Stone Town, spice tours and spectacular beaches.
On my fi rst visit to Zanzibar, I encountered divers, who tried to convince me that scuba diving an essential part of that list. I found them a strange species, talking in code about buoyancy, visibility, dive computers, how deep they’d been and the things they’d seen. They were fun people, but I wondered if they’d fallen victim to some sort of pyramid scheme, with their attempts to convert non divers to their obsession. Maybe they got a free toaster for every fi ve people they won over.
Later, when I moved to Zanzibar, I met more of this curious breed. They talked about being soundless, weightless, fl oating through the water as if you were fl ying. I cracked. I tried a Discover Scuba Diving experience on a trip to the beach. I was sea sick, fought blind panic and was towed around the reef like a human balloon by a patient instructor. I was not convinced. Unimpressed, underwhelmed and nauseous. I’d had better days snorkeling. Diving seemed like an expensive hobby, involving various forms suffering with little reward.
Time passed. I made friends with more divers and instructors. I watched them glow with excitement as they described underwater wonders: manta rays gliding through the water with deadly grace, shy sea horses, dolphins and strange shrimp. I decided to try again.
I signed up for a PADI Open Water course with One Ocean, the Zanzibar Dive Centre. One Ocean is a PADI fi ve star centre and the largest dive company in East Africa, with a reputation for safety and good instructors. You can learn to dive at any of their centres; Blue Bay Resort and Spa, Ocean Paradise, Matemwe Beach Village, their Stone Town centre and in Kizimkazi at Unguja Diving Resort. All the centres offer an extensive range of courses, with experienced staff, high quality equipment and a fl eet of well-equipped boats.
When choosing a dive centre, always check their accreditation on the PADI website (www.PADI.com). Make sure you meet your instructor before the course and they’re someone you feel comfortable with before handing over any money. A PADI Open Water course costs in the range of $400 and generally takes 4 or 5 days. It consists of classroom study, pool sessions to learn vital skills, four dives in the sea and a fi nal exam before you can become certifi ed as a diver. The course is fl exible – there’s the option to do a referral, where you complete the pool dives, required study and examination at home, then fi nish the open water dives in the sea on location, saving you from time in the classroom on your holiday. Alternatively, if you can’t commit to fi ve days in a row, it’s possible to spread the course out over weekends until you’ve completed the work needed to gain certifi cation.
Putting my previous experience out of my mind, I worked my way through the course, learning about water pressure, density, decompression illness, how to take care of diving equipment and how to plan dives safely. The pool sessions provided a gentle introduction to the skills I would need: learning to breathe through a regulator, how to equalise as I descended underwater and my least favourite, how to take off my mask, put it back on and clear away the water, without snorting it up my nose and choking.
Finally, I was ready to head out to sea. Butterfl ies jittered in my stomach and I made myself breathe through the anxiety. We kitted up, contorting ourselves into wet suits, strapping on weight belts and putting on our BCDs and fi ns, before going through the buddy check. It was time. Mask on, regulator in my mouth, I shuffl ed to the edge of the boat for the disorientating fl ip backwards into the water. Bobbing around like corks, we signalled down, letting the air out of our BCDs, sinking into the depths.
The compressed air from the tank dried out my mouth making me cough, as I watched the sandy bottom come into view. A check to see if everyone was okay and then we were off. Drifting soundlessly through this alien landscape, the muted colours of the corals deepening as the sunlight shimmered through the water. Spiky green tubes of coral, the dusky periwinkle blue of the sponges, iridescent silvery pearls called sailors eyes gleaming like lost treasure in the reef. Clown fi sh danced in and out of pale pink anemones. My panic melted away as I looked around this underwater world in wonder.
Stone fi sh scuttled along the bottom camoufl aged by the sand, whiskered cat fi sh gaped at me from a shelf of coral, schools of shimmering silver fi sh moved as one through the water. A Moorish idol swam regally by, lobsters waved their tentacles at me and a blue spotted sting ray, which looked like it had been attacked by a delinquent with spray paint, disappeared through the coral. Angel fi sh hovered over seaweed, glowing with brilliant colours.
And it was over. I was hooked, converted, a new acolyte to the cult. I passed my exam and I’ve been working on getting my toaster, convincing friends to do courses. I babble about buoyancy, get excited over fi sh and I’ve signed up for my Open Water Advanced course. I spend weekends diving. I’ve seen a sea horse planted in the sand next to a lion fi sh, followed fat groupers through a wreck and glimpsed a turtle swimming out of sight. I get it now. And you will too.
