Is 28 degrees Celsius warm or cold?

Is 28 degrees C warm or cold? If you’d asked me a year ago I would have said warm, duh. But if you’d asked me yesterday while I was bobbing in the waves, in my dive kit waiting to get picked up by the boat I would have said no with chattering teeth and blue lips.

Since coming back from Bird Island I’ve spent one week out of water, sick with a bacterial skin infection. After a rather memorable visit to the local hospital to a substandard doctor who asked me more about the cost of getting to the Seychelles than about my ailment, I’ve spent nearly two weeks on antibiotics and nearly the same time out of the water.

As I’ve said before, not diving while on a diving project is like being sent to the naughty corner. Each day I’d watch as people walked down for a dive, fins in hand, discussing the coral and fish they were due to see, and watch as they’d return with crazy sea whipped hair and goggle impressions on their faces, smiling, chattering about what they had seen. Instead I spent my time sleeping and working on preparations for World Biodiversity Day.

GVI was invited to share our love of the sea with roughly 40 school kids between the ages of 8-11. We arrived at the Port Launay beach armed with SCUBA gear,face paint and snorkeling gear. 

In the early morning heat the kids arrived, enthusiastic and smiling. It was a fantastic morning, reminding me of the power of education. 

We know the importance of the sea and the animals within it, but these 9 year olds kids don’t know that the turtles are in decline, or that we’re catching tuna faster than it can breed.

It was heartwarming to share knowledge again, to be surrounded by such a shapable youth.

But after a week out of water I was ready. To be honest, I was in no state to dive, I slept most of the day, and all of the night. And after a morning with the kids I had a turtle dive.

A turtle dive with Eva. The purpose of a turtle dive is simple. We are dropped at set points around the Bay Ternay marine park. From these points we work in pairs in a U shaped pattern towards the shore in search of well, turtles. One person carries the SMB (surface marker buoy- a reel with rope attached to a floatation device that sits on the top of the water marking where divers are) and a slate to write down what the turtles are up to when we see them. The other person guides the pair with a compass, 50 kicks parallel to shore, 10 kicks towards shore and another 50 kicks parallel to shore. 

I love to be the guide. I love watching the compass spin as we turn this way and that in search of turtles. I’ve only ever spotted one turtle on a turtle dive and in my excitement I forgot all advice about what to do when you see a turtle- keep quiet, approach slowly, instead I squealed with excitement, waved vigorously to my buddy Tom and kicked like mad to the turtle, who in one glance and graceful movement of its fins was gone, lost in the blurry blue, hidden by the plankton that clouds the water.

But after nearly 2 weeks out of the water. Eva and I descended and I was met with that meditative peace that comes with being in the underwater world. Ok? I signal with my hand. Ok, Eva signals back. I can see she’s smiling behind her mask.

I align the compass and we carve our way though the water in the uniform pattern towards shore. The visibility is only 12 metres today. Not ideal for spotting a turtle. Thirty eight, thirty nine, forty. I lose count as we pass over some foliose Echinopora, Faviidae. I stare, taking in the delicate folds of coral, lost in its intricate beauty. After a moments appreciate we resume our search. After 50 minutes its time to head back to the surface, to the stratosphere. No turtles, but the dive has stilled my sense of unease after being out of the water too long. I sigh deeply as the sun warms my face.

The following day we didn’t dive. We had a raft race. But not just any raft race, we were randomly put into teams of 8, instructed to build a raft, make costumes and raise money for the local orphanage. And my team, Joe’s (mer)maids, rose to the occasion, each taking on various tasks. Eva, a Swiss and professional tailor for opera and ballet headed the costumes. Barbel, a kind german, took to raft building with Joe, a Australian sounding British staff member and photographer and Liz, a smiley New Yorker staff member, tying string in ever complicated knots. Muriel, a lovely Swiss girl and Amelia, a young American girl, and I were split between the two tasks, sewing here, tying knots here. It was a flurry of skill, time and creativity and it paid off.

On Wendesday morning we all clambered down to the bay, tails on, raft ready. We eyed the competition. 

There was the Castaways on their odd shaped raft. 

To the left the pirates on “Titanic” a huge and heavy raft. 

And there was Marine Park Massive, a strange collection of sea creatures- honestly, you had a to squint and use your imagination to see their costumes, but all the most amusing.

And SNPA, Seychelles National Park Authority turned up with a pristine raft and proper paddles.

On your marks, get set, go. And we were off, each team with a different method of movement. Our raft sat 5 mermaids and Joe, paddling with crude paddles of plywood nailed to a stick for a handle. Two more mermaids swam behind pushing the raft along for momentum. One, two. One, two. The paddles moved in unison. I was one of the mermaids in the water, kicking with all my might, my tail now dead weight around my waste.

For 50 minutes we battled against the waves to the further buoy in the bay. In the distance I saw tourists taking photos from their catamaran, what a funny sight we were. No time to smile, kick! Being mermaids we were in the run to win, the pirates “Titanic” proved too heavy for the waves, disassembling causing roars of displeasure. The Castaways were slow despite their fierce tribal appearance. And the animals of Marine Park Massive just couldn’t keep up.

In the end it was a battle between SNPA and the mermaids. As the tide went out we fought to make it back to shore, and watched as SNPA crossed the line mere metres in front of us. 50 minutes of lactic acid inducing raft racing. We were exhilarated and exhausted. And team after team we trickled in, smiles spread. What a feat, and what fun. 

So, if you have a spare couple of bucks for the orphans here at Port Glaude please do donate- www.justgiving.com/raftrace4rupees. The money goes toward giving them a more normal childhood, with toys and day trips so they can appreciate the beauty that surrounds them.

So, whether I’m in the water snorkeling, diving or raft racing, I’ve come to love the sea here at Cap Ternay. Its beautiful, healthy and full of life. For my last four weeks here I’ll survey various sites, furthering my understand of the reefs health and my love of coral.

Is 28 degrees Celsius warm or cold?