A Three-Shower Day

Showering at the end of the day is one of the great pleasures of adventure travel. You rinse off the grime and sweat of the day's activities and emerge clean again.

On particularly good days, you do this twice, once to recover from the morning's activities and then again to recover from the afternoon's.

But the best days require three showers. Such was our second day at Aldabra.

Hitting the Beach

The day began with a pre-dawn beach landing. The tide was so low that the Zodiacs couldn't make it to the beach, so we had to offload on a sandbar covered with reef rubble and walk (in the dark) to a second Zodiac to get to shore.


On landing, we found something we've always wanted to see: a female green sea turtle digging her nest. But it was bittersweet to see her; she was clearly having problems. Dawn was breaking, and she hadn't even begun laying her eggs. As the sun rose higher, she gave up and headed back into the sea, to try again another night. Apparently it's not uncommon for them to try several times before succeeding.

About a hundred meters down the beach, we found further evidence of the challenges of turtle reproduction. Crabs were feasting on eggs from a recent turtle nest.

The tortoises were a bit harder to spot this early in the morning. It's not that they moved; as best we could tell, they just lay down wherever they happened to be when sleep hit them. But moving tortoises are much easier to see than immobile lumps.

Lots of birds as well, with particularly good looks at the Blue Pigeon and another Coucal. The sun was already very hot by 7:30 (this is deep in the tropics), so we headed back to the boat for a pre-breakfast shower.

Drift Snorkeling

Activity number two was a drift snorkel. Aldabra, the second largest atoll in the world, houses an enormous lagoon whose waters rise and fall with the tides. As the tide rose in late morning, the Zodiac would drop us on the ocean side of the channel, and the incoming tide would carry us into the lagoon. Once it got too shallow, the Zodiac would pick us up and we'd do it again.

This is a great snorkeling strategy for at least three reasons. First, it's easy to cover a lot of territory. Second, the incoming tide brings clear water into the lagoon; visibility is much better than you would find doing a drift snorkel on the outgoing tide. Third, and most important, we weren't the only ones coming in with the tide. Predators came in as well, as the rising tide allowed them to reach the smaller fish, crabs, etc. that live in the lagoon. We saw large sweetlips, snappers, groupers, eagle rays, sting rays, a pair of sharks, a sea turtle, and legions of colorful fish.

Touring the Lagoon

After lunch (and a second shower), we emerged for the final activity of the day: a lagoon tour by Zodiac. The lagoon contains fascinating coral formations called champignons (that's French for mushrooms). You can see why.

The mangroves in the lagoon played host to many roosting Red-footed Boobies and their nemesis, the Great Frigatebirds (who make their living stealing fish from boobies). There were lots of other birds as well -- tropicbirds, terns, herons, egrets, etc. And a great view of lagoon fish, many of which we had snorkeled with earlier.

After baking in the 100 degree heat for several hours, we certainly need one last shower.

P.S. Our Aldabra adventure ended with a slightly gross image, but one that illustrates well the richness of the environment here. As the tide fell, our Zodiacs had to leave the lagoon, lest we be stranded by the falling water. As we zipped through the channel, we could see floating mats of material that the tide had brought out from the lagoon: rafts of tortoise dung.

Aldabra: Birds, Bats, and Other Critters

If you can pull yourself away from the sharks and tortoises, you discover that Aldabra hosts all sorts of other critters.


First, there are the birds. Within a few hundred meters of our landing, we saw ten new life birds: Aldabra Rail, Souimanga Sunbird (pictured), Aldabra Fody, Aldabra Drongo, Madagascar Coucal, Dimorphic Egret, Crab Plover, Greater Sand Plover, Fairy Tern, and Comoro Blue Pigeon, as well as old friends such as Madagascar White Eye, Grey Heron, Ruddy Turnstone, Sanderling, Greenshank, Wimbrel, Great Frigatebird, White-tailed Tropicbird, Madgascar Turtle Dove, and Pied Crow.


We particularly enjoyed the male coucal: he had caught a gecko and was calling in hopes of sharing it with a lady friend.


The birds weren't the only ones aloft. Fruit bats (aka Flying Foxes) periodically skimmed the palms, and occasionally alighted for a snack.


On the ground were legions of crabs, ranging from tiny hermit crabs to gigantic coconut crabs.




We don't know if these giants can really open coconuts with their bare claws, but we wouldn't want to tangle with one.




Returning to the water at the end of the day, we discovered that the sharks weren't the only predators swimming in the shallows. They were joined by schools of Bonefish, Trevally (a type of jack), and Barracuda. We even caught a quick glimpse of a Permit (which they call Dart in the Indian Ocean).

It's not often that you can walk right up to a bonefish to take his picture.

Aldabra: Land of Giants

Once you get by the sharks on Aldabra -- which can take a while -- you get to the tortoises. These fellows (and gals) are all over the place. As noted earlier, an estimated 100,000 of these giants call Aldabra home. That's five times as many as in the entire Galapagos archipelago.

Tortoises definitely have personalities (tortoisalities?). Some pull back into their shells if you approach. Some hold out their heads and hiss. And some stick out their heads and wait to be petted.



We didn't witness it, but apparently there's a behavior in which the Aldabra Rail (the only remaining flightless land bird in the Indian Ocean) will knock on the trailing edge of a tortoise's shell and, in response, the tortoise will extend its neck and legs so that the rail can pull off insects. Some researchers on the island use that technique to get tortoises to relax when they approach.



Tortoises are the largest critters on the island, so they fill many of the ecological niches that mammals hold in other areas. They even do their best to be giraffes.

Aldabra: Wading Through the Sharks

Aldabra teems with life; the contrast with Assumption could not be any sharper. Long protected from any development, Aldabra hosts the largest population of giant tortoises in the world; about 100,000 call Aldabra home, five times as many as live in the entire Galapagos. The only remaining flightless bird in the Indian Ocean lives here, the Aldabra Rail. Thousands upon thousands of sea birds nest here. The interior of the atoll is one of the largest lagoons in the world, brimming with fish. There's life everywhere.

To see these wonders, you first have to get to Aldabra. Getting the Zodiacs to the beach is a delicate matter, given the shallowness of the reefs and sand bars that surround the water. And then you have to wade through the sharks. Literally.



There must have been two dozen sharks cruising along the beach where we landed. Most were Black-tipped Reef Sharks, but there were a few Lemon Sharks as well.



These guys are essentially harmless -- they certainly have no interest in biting you. But they are curious fellows who will happily swim right over to check you out. We hope to post some of Esther's video footage once we are back in the States, but the photos should give you some idea of the fun we had with them.

Assumption Island

Two days in the Seychelles. That was the great consolation prize we received because of the unrest in Madagascar. And not just any islands in the Seychelles - we went to two of the most remote: Assumption and Aldabra.

Our first port of call was Assumption, where Seychelles officials had specially flown to clear our ship into the nation. For reasons that are a bit murky, Assumption hosts a truly gigantic runway; you could land anything there, but few aircraft have any reason to. (Some speculate that one leader of the Seychelles wanted western countries to be able to send a large transport plane to evacuate him and his family in case of a coup.)

Assumption was super-duper hot. Many a traveler turned back before reaching the airstrip; we made it only by ducking into the shade of random Casuarina trees whenever possible. There's not much on the island today, either human or natural. It was once a thriving seabird colony, with rich soil (from the seabird guano) and lots of trees. Then guano mining took off, and much of the island was denuded. Mining ceased about 25 years ago, leaving behind rusty trucks and deteriorating buildings. The natural environment is rebounding, but only slowly.

Our bird species count for Assumption? Just four. Our new friend the Fody (this time the Aldabra Fody), Abbott's Sunbird, Red-whiskered Bulbul, and Greater Frigatebird.

The good news is that life still teems underwater. The patch reef is close, so we could snorkel off the beach. We again saw a host of colorful fish, plus a few larger predators like mackerel and trevally. We also were fortunate to be caught in a classic tropical downpour. The rain cooled us nicely and made a fascinating pattern on the surface of the ocean, but had no noticeable effect on the fish below. (We hope to have underwater pictures from our disposable camera once we are state-side.)

P.S. The idea of an economist being on Assumption Island which was once covered in guano does seem like rich material for an anti-economist joke. Take your best shot.

At Sea with Boobies

Imagine, if you will, a humble flying fish going about its business as dawn breaks near the Seychelles. The flying fish hangs out near the surface, feeding on plants and small pelagic creatures. All of a sudden, a giant comes roaring across the surface of the ocean. What should the fish do? Well, if you are a flying fish, you swim away as fast as possible and launch yourself into the air.

That's a great strategy for getting out of the way of the ship -- the fish can easily travel a hundred meters or more. But there's a problem. Red-footed Boobies have figured this out. So as the sun rises, our ship is accompanied by a booby squadron. And when a flying fish takes off, the boobies dive bomb. Usually they miss -- flying fish have some evasive maneuvers up their, er, sleeves. But the boobies succeed often enough to make this a worthwhile strategy (or it may just be that they enjoying riding the wind above the ship).

P.S. Still hoping for a better flying fish photo; but at least we got one.

Leaping Lemurs

After a much-needed shower, our Mayotte afternoon began with a visit to Lemur Island. (The official name of Mayotte's third largest island is M'Bouzi, but Lemur Island is much more appropriate; it's crawling with them. To be more precise, the trees are crawling with them.)

Lemurs are fellow primates (pro-simians to be precise) who split off from the simians (monkeys, apes, us) some millions of years ago. Most lemurs are limited to Madagascar, one of the reasons we and many travelers were disappointed when Madagascar got dropped from the itinerary. After our up-close visit on Lemur Island, however, we are feeling much better.

As shown in the pictures, lemurs are quite different from monkeys and apes. Their faces are rather dog-like with a noticeable snout and a wet nose. Your basic monkey, on the other hand, has a much flatter face (see, for example, the vervet monkey we saw in St. Lucia in South Africa).

As we learned first hand, the lemurs also have very soft paws and sharp nails. We had a chance to feed them bananas, which they adore. Several jumped on us in their enthusiasm. (Sorry, no photos of a lemur on Esther's shoulders -- too close for the zoom lens.)

Lemurs weren't the only critters on the island. There was a cute black-and-white cat, who appeared to have reached detente with the lemurs. There was also a healthy population of bright red Madagascar Fodies. We had never heard of the fody before, but they are common in the this part of the world. The males looked like a cross between a finch and a scarlet tanager.

After spending an hour with the lemurs, we headed off for the first snorkel of the trip. We explored a patch reef a few hundred yards off Lemur Island. As you might expect, we saw all sorts of beautiful fish: brightly colored Butterflyfish, Surgeonfish, Wrasse, Parrotfish, Fusiliers, Trevally, Sergeant Majors, etc. We even found the day's "prize fish" -- the pipefish. Pipefish are basically three-inch sea horses that have been straightened. Very cute. (Sorry, no photos yet. Once we get back, we will post anything usable from our disposable underwater camera.)

Add it all up and it was quite a day: crate lake hike, hanging with the lemurs, and snorkeling with Indian Ocean fish. We slept well that night.

A Bit of France in the Indian Ocean

The best day of our voyage (so far) was at little-known Mayotte in the Comoros, northwest of Madagascar. Unlike the other major islands in the Comoros, Mayotte has chosen to remain part of France. (The rest of the Comoros claim Mayotte, and in the past, a majority of the U.N. Security Council agreed, but a French veto kept Mayotte part of France.) So, much to our surprise, we found ourselves spending a day in the EU.

And what a fine day it was.

We spent the morning hiking around the Dziani Crater on Petite Terre, the smaller of the two main islands. (Quick quiz: What's the name of the main island?). This proved to be the first semi-strenuous part of our cruise -- mostly because of the sun and humidity. We are now deep in the tropics, a long way from the temperate climate of Cape Town.

As we circled the rim, we looked down on the canopy of trees and the green lake at the base of the crater. A particular highlight was seeing large Fruit Bats (also known as Flying Foxes) flying across the crater. Much larger than the bats back home, they are rather cute, in a winged fox kind of way. We also saw White-tailed Tropicbirds, Madagascar Bee-Eaters, bright red Madagascar Fodys, two endemics (the Mayotte White-Eye and the Mayotte Sunbird), Madagascar Paradise Flycatchers, and African Palm Swifts, amongst others. We also spied a Kestrel, none of which are listed as occuring in Mayotte, so maybe we had something new there. (Sorry for the grainy kestrel photo; the zoom lens was back on the ship.)

On the way back to the ship, we did a quick beach stop. We saw many trails of sea turtles crawling up the beach to lay their eggs. The female turtles usually come at night, so we didn't see any in person. But their trails -- which look like tracks from a four-wheel offroad vehicle -- show that they are about. Maybe we will see some later in the trip.

Answer: The main island is called Grande Terre.

Mozambique Recap

Best bird: Green (Red-billed) Wood-Hoopoe

Best mammals: Melon-headed Whales, Spinner Dolphins, and Transtropical Spotted Dolphins (all spotted in the Mozambique channel)

Best fish: Flying fish (still trying to get a photo)

Most interesting visit: Ilha de Mocambique

Least interesting visit: Maputo

Most useful Portuguese phrase: Bom Dia (Good Day)

Most disappointing news: Civil strife will prevent our scheduled visit to Madagascar.

Most encouraging news: Instead, we will visit the Seychelles.

Ilha de Mocambique

We were supposed to be in Madagascar today, but civil strife prompted a State Department warning against U.S. tourists going there; quite reasonably, the tour operators decided to take us elsewhere. So today we found ourselves on Ilha de Mocambique, the island that gave Mozambique its name. The island has a rich history as a port, boat building center, and Portuguese settlement. It served as the nation's capital until 1898 (when Maputo became the seat of government). It is now primarily a fishing village.

Despite being a World Heritage Site, the island gets only a little tourism. A few Europeans have begun to renovate homes into small hotels and restaurants, but we saw few other tourists (other than fellow guests on the ship) during our visit. According to our local guide, our ship was the first to visit since 2005. And before that, the last two visits were in 2001. So the arrival of the National Geographic Explorer was a big deal. When we came ashore, our group was welcomed by an enthusiastic throng, including some lovely women dancing and singing. We then walked the length (3km) and breadth (0.5 km) of the island.

The highlight of our tour was a visit to the Palace and Chapel of Sao Paulo, originally built in 1610. The Palace, which served as the governor's quarters, is decorated with remarkable pieces from France, England, India, China, etc. It even has statues from the New World. Exactly what you'd expect on an island that was so strategically placed on the trade routes between Europe and Asia.

Outside is a statue of Vasco da Gama, who originated the trade route from Europe to India. He reached Ilha da Mocambique in 1498 (in those years the Spanish generally went west -- finding the New World -- while the Portuguese went east). Of course, as we have often been reminded on this journey, Da Gama was hardly the first to sail these waters. Arab traders had plied the Indian Ocean for centuries, as had the Chinese.