Top 10 Memorable Ocean Experiences of 2011: No. 05 – When Everything Goes Right

It was an early start for ADV (the famous whale researcher) and me. 7.45am and the boat was launched smoothly onto a flat sea. There being just the two of us and Uncle Sumathi in the boat we flew out to sea coasting over the calm waters and arriving at the Taprobane East wreck in a record 45 minutes.

I remember that this was one of the first dives where I navigated solo (with a  GPS of course) to the wreck so was a bit nervous about locating the wreck and hooking it. The first time we weren’t lucky so we dutifully pulled it up and tried again. Second time lucky of course and the anchor was firm. As we descended down the line, the shape of the wreck loomed out of the blue, definite success.

The bright sunlight and clear water made for a kaleidoscopic dive, the soft coral shades of pink, orange and red with the glassfish shimmering over them. A giant moray, green and huge lay stretched out on part of the wreck gaping as we passed over it, giving it a respective distance. The white sand sparkled and then clouded as a shoal of trevalley nosed around digging for food. All of a sudden the shoal, about 30 in number gave up digging in the sand and swam around us. They circled us, swimming round and round in a tight circle with their sleek forms glinting. I would have hated to be a bait fish surrounded by them as the lazy power which with they swam gave hints of the acceleration they could be capable off. Finally they got bored of us and moved back to foraging.

As we rounded the side of the wreck an immense thumping sound could be heard. A tug boat nearby had started its engine and the sound reverberated through the water like a giant tribal drum. With this backdrop a shoal of batfish suddenly appeared, silhouetted in the sun and swimming towards us, almost seeming to swim to the tune of the drum. The shoal swims past us, a tiny golden trevalley rather incongruously leading the fish at the front. Truly a magical moment.

Time was up however and we had to ascend. Uncle Sumathi, his wizened kindly face and bright red shirt apparently suspended in gin clear water as he looked down at us over the side of the boat. Starting back to shore things got even better. A flying fish breaks the surface, whizzing over the flat sea as a barracuda breaches after it. The flying fish goes far but the barracuda, unsuccessful flops down into the sea.

The icing on the cake was a pod of feeding dolphins breaking the surface. We quietly slip into the water and move towards them hoping they will swim past us. We can see them at the water level, breaching and breathing as they hunt. But they stay tantalizingly out of sight and we are left to enjoy the warm Indian Ocean, floating carefree kilometers from shore yet still at home.

Top 10 Memorable Ocean Experiences of 2011: No. 03 – Visited by Cousteau

It was the first trip to Gingiri for the season, three old hands, M, DJ and myself. Visibility wasn’t flash, around 10-12 meters which isn’t what we usually expect at the other reefs but this was still decent. We split off to do our own thing, DJ relaxing on the sand communing with the powers that be while I tried to (largely unsuccessfully) do some wide-angle photography.

Fail on wide-angle, mostly because I don't have a wide-angle lens

DJ taking a break

The dive passed quite uneventfully with a huge stingray being the highlight, though a highlight kept at a safe distance and we clambered back on to the boat ready for the interminable surface interval, necessary to ensure we did not die a horrible death due to decompression illness on the next dive. This surface interval was enlivened however by being surrounded by a number of dolphins, sadly none close enough to swim with and take a peek at.

Huge stingray, keep a good distance!

As we geared up for the second time, little did we know that the dive to Taprobane reef was going to be a life changing one. Again we spread out along the reef 20 meters down, M and I distracted by trying to photograph random fish and corals. I was trying to take a portrait of a shy fish model when I noticed DJ waving and pointing like someone possessed. Following the direction of his arm, all I could see was something blurry and white in the distance. This however slowly resolved itself into a pod of dolphins. Obviously the noise of our bubbles had alerted them to something new in the water and they had come to investigate.


The beauty was surreal, the pod moving sleekly through the water, at one with their element like I could never imagine. The pod remained at the outer reaches of our vision, 10-12 meters away but I swear I looked one in the eye as the dolphins gracefully pivoted and left us, their curiosity satisfied. As brief as that moment was, for mystery and the almost supernaturelness of the encounter it was most definitely one of the best moments of 2011.




P.S. Before anyone asks, we were all too gobsmacked to take photographs and visibility was too bad as well. We kept a lookout after our encounter but the messengers of Cousteau did not come back.

Keeping an eye out for a return

There she blows! (Sri Lankan version Part 2)

Continued from here

4.30 dawned dark and bleary, as we hobbled down to congregate at various randomly decided locations before getting together in a loosely knit convoy for the 20 minute drive to Mirissa. Once we in a roundabout manner found Mirissa Water Sports, a stones throw from the harbour; the next step was to provide all our details, ID numbers, address, hair colour, when we last had a shave, etc for the Navy’s benefit. Actually I jest; it was just name and ID number.

Fighting off the rather friendly dogs at the harbour we boarded the two storey boat, the Spirit of Dondra and were issued humongous life-jackets which I quickly discarded (I wouldn’t recommend this to the regular traveler but I have issues with bravado) as we moved out of the harbour. We gathered steam and headed out into the deep blue of the open ocean as Six Pence None the Richer still played in my head and Mirissa gleamed golden and newly minted in the early morning light.




 (L-R): Boarding the boat, Mirissa Sunrise

The boat ride seemed to go on interminably, the boat swaying in the swells. While most of my boatmates slumbered on the top deck to catch up from the early start, I gazed around at the sea in a whole new perspective. Being a frequent diver, I spend a lot of time in small boats almost at eye level with the sea. Here I was around 6m above the sea and the grandiosity of the swells had to be seen to be believed, one could easily imagine the kinetic energy generated by those swells to be immense as the giant sheets of deep blue water rippled slowly across our path. 

On the watch

Flying fish skittered across the surface every now and then, these were bigger than what I had seen as well and they flew for meters. On occasion looking into the glare of the sun, a flying fish skimmed so far across the waves, dipping in once to get more momentum that I thought I must have misidentified some kind of sea dwelling bird.


 
Mirissa Water Sports 

The first whale sighting was relatively understated, mostly because most of us missed both the whale and the excitement amongst the MWS boys who shouted directions down to the boat captain as we turned towards the spout. The whale watchers were finally roused from their respective slumbers and cameras were eagerly pointed towards the whale as it whooshed an exhalation, misting the blue horizon as its bulk moved seamlessly, grey through the water. After a few breaths at the surface, the ludicrously small dorsal fin arched through the water as the immense creature, over 30 meters long, propelled itself into a dive, giant flukes cresting through the water as it sounded. The scale of the whale was brought home to me when I saw the pool of still water amongst the swells of the ocean that the gigantic body had created during its dive.



Blue whale breaching
 
What followed was quite similar to my Californian experience but just nowhere near as cold. The whale dived, fluking as we desperately clicked off as many pictures as possible and then we waited patiently until it surfaced again. The Mirissa and Fisheries Corporation boats’ behavior with the whale was exemplary, quiet engines, staying in the whale’s safe zone and maintaining a minimum 100 meter distance to the whale, except when the whale decided to come closer on one memorable occasion.



L-R: Whale spouting, Mirissa Water Sports and the whale

Unfortunately our experience was hugely marred by some extremely irresponsible (not to mention obviously cheap) tourists who had chartered a local fishing boat to come whale watching. The boat sounded like they had jerry rigged a Tuk Tuk engine and the fishermen had absolutely no respect for the animal, charging up and down and scaring the whale into taking short surface breaks. The irresponsibility of the fishermen is one thing, but the sheer stupidity of the tourists is something that has to be seen to be believed. For the sake of a few thousand rupees theses cheap tourists put the wellbeing of one of the world’s most majestic animals at risk.


Irresponsible Tourists

Rant aside we watched the whale for a couple of hours before heading back to shore. The 20 strong crowd variously napped, chatted, ate innumerable biscuits or stared hypnotized at the sea. After a while it occurred to some of us that we were not in fact heading back to shore, unless we were trying to make landfall somewhere in Africa. Consulting the Mirissa boys, it turned out that a shoal of Spinner Dolphins had been sighted and we were heading to check them out. Having previously missed the Spinners at Kalpitiya, I was quite excited about finally seeing some high spirited shenanigans from these famous acrobats of the sea.

 
Airborne Spinner dolphins

And they didn’t disappoint. The atmosphere on the boat while watching the Spinners was sharply different from when the Blue Whale was surfacing. While the whale with its slow almost languorous movements inspired a more reverent awe at the immensity of its sheer bulk, the Spinners inspired sheer excitement as they zipped breathlessly through the water taking a break once in awhile to do headstands or take flight out of the water. You could almost hear the entire group gasp collectively as they shot past our bow, shimmering silver streaks in the deep blue water, bubbles exploding around them.

 
Swimming past the boat

To be honest with the immensity of the pod and the non-stop action around I didn’t know where to look and eventually put my camera down and simply enjoyed the show. After about an hour we decided to make a move but a large pod started coming at us with a path crossing directly in front of us. The Mirissa boys killed the engine and we waited patiently for the pod to cross our bow. Unfortunately another fishing boat with tourists on board decided the best way to show their (all foreign) customers the dolphins were to drive directly into the pod. Of course this scared the hell out of the poor dolphins and they submerged, not to be seen again. The stupidity of the tourists and the fishermen had to be seen to be believed. People should really know better.

 
Irresponsible tourists Part II

Apart from the slightly sour taste in our mouths from the irresponsible tourists scaring the whales and dolphins, the trip was an unbridled success. Unawatune, despite the badly planned development is still not as bad as Hikkaduwa and the bay has a charm that is simply missing in Hikkaduwa. Bishu’s is a delightful place to stay and the Mirissa Water Sports whale watching excursion though a bit basic to those who are used to the more sophisticated excursions in the developed world is still a step in the right direction. If you do go to Mirissa to see the whales, please be responsible and use Mirissa or the Ceylon Fisheries boat and avoid the cheap fishing boats that are destroying the natural heritage that attracts the tourists in the first place.
 
Whale in the Indian Ocean

There she blows! (Sri Lankan version Part 1)

It was a funny sense of Déjà vu that I felt, as the boat slipped out of the Mirissa fishing harbour as the sun rose on the southern edge of Sri Lanka. I had the Sixpence None the Richer song in my head again, There she goes, in some psychosomatic flashback to my California trip to see Blue Whales. This trip was totally different though, in more ways than geographical. While the California experience had been purely to see the biggest animal that had ever existed the Mirissa/Unawatune trip was a weekend away with sea, sand, food and good company in equal quantities.

The venue for the weekend was Bishu’s (you can call the gentleman at 0777708880 right after reading this post…trust me it's the best budget place to stay in Una), cunningly disguised as the Unawatuna Bay hotel where a group of 20 of us (well mostly 20) crashed down for a weekend of chilling out and…wait…I already mentioned above what conspired for the weekend. But did I mention chilling out?

After a long trafficky dive down to Unawatune and settling down at Bishu’s, we headed for dinner with Kosala at the Submarine Diving School. I hear they’re pretty good at all things diving related, but I’ll be damned if they don’t have a Michelin starred chef working there. The food was relatively simple, grilled fish, devilled crab, salad and potatoes. The fish however was the most delicate and flavourful I had had in months, the salad was absolutely divine, a million flavours hitting your palette at the same time while the crab was…well spectacular to say the least. To say I took my time and demolished everything on my plate is probably the understatement of the year. Add the beautifully lit crescent bay, the white sands, quietly swishing ocean and the starry night and it was an absolutely perfect night and the best way to start what was to be the perfect weekend.

Saturday may have dawned bright and early in sunny southern Sri Lanka, but since I haven’t slept in since around November 2009, I decided to take a chill pill and stay in bed until the rest of the crew turned up to Bishu’s. Of course I didn’t get to sleep too much as some of the others on the trip came in bright and early from Colombo and roused us for lunch. Might I take a moment here and say the lunch at Bishu’s is absolutely brilliant. I had an interesting opportunity to contrast Unawatune Beach Resort’s sandwiches (supplied for breakfast by a friend) to Bishu’s lunch. The former was tasteless and hugely overpriced at Rs.500 for some sandwiches and soggy fries while the latter was the epitome of delicious Lankan style food. So here’s another tip, avoid UBR if you want value for money, there are much better options out there.

In order to digest our lunch fully, we decided in a fit of enthusiasm to hike to the nearby Jungle Beach and relax in the ocean. On our first 2:1 slope on the way, my enthusiasm waned somewhat, being weighed down by a full stomach and dripping with sweat in the humidity. However getting to Jungle Beach, my enthusiasm was (somewhat) restored. The beach is very pretty and picturesque, turquoise blue and green water, but in usual Sri Lankan fashion, people who come to the beach, tourists and fishermen, seem to have an uncontrollable urge to pollute it and there are plastic bags and other unseemly things lying around.

Jungle Beach

Credit: Dhammika Heenpella / Images of Sri Lanka

This drawback was however quite easy to forget while relaxing in the bathtub warm waters of the bay. I tried a small snorkeling expedition with a friends mask but it was too ill-fitting to do much with apart from spot a frightened puffer fish and skim the sand in search for small shells, odd pieces of rock and other things that only I would ever find interesting. Despite almost taking out a couple of people with my headstands and flailing legs to keep me under water, I had quite a lot of fun. The snorkeling does appear quite good here though if you can get further out into the bay as can be seen from one of my friend’s pictures here. Note that he didn’t snorkel, just waded in and stuck his waterproof camera underwater to get these fabulous pictures.

Powder Blue Surgeon Fish

Credit: Dhammika Heenpella / Images of Sri Lanka

It was with regret that we waded out as the sun set and headed back to Bishu’s to dry off, change and head back to the Submarine Diving School for a BBQ they had set up for us. I could wax on about this feast as well, but I’m afraid the culinary enthusiasts amongst my readers (assuming I have any) would hasten to throw themselves out of the nearest window. Suffice to say that I would like to take a moment to thank Kosala, Shirley and the staff of the Submarine Dive School for putting together what was arguably the best BBQ on (and off) the beach I have ever had. 

BBQ in progress

Credit: Dhammika Heenpella / Images of Sri Lanka

Satiated, replete and all the other adjectives you can think of to imply a full stomach, we took our leave off the warm Unawatune night and retired to bed early with the eager prospect (well not for some) of waking up at 4.30 the next morning to see the largest animal that has ever existed in the world.

To be continued

There she blows! (Californian version)

This was a trip taken back in the day when I used to call California home, a bright and early morning in October 2007 when Nalin and I headed out to see some Blue Whales (the largest animal that has ever existed) off the coast of Santa Barbara. Fingers crossed if March goes as planned I should have a Sri Lankan version of this up soon!

There she blows again… 

It may have been a side effect of waking up so early on a Saturday morning that a decidedly odd version of that infamous Sixpence none the Richer was playing in my head. It’s been awfully long time since I’ve woken up late on a Saturday in my own bed…and in fact it looks like it’s going to be awhile until I get to in the near future.

The throaty growl outside indicated Nalin had turned up in his Z, about 15 minutes early which was very un-Sri Lankan off him. We scarfed down some McDees breakfast while I gave my camera equipment a final look see.

Body…check

4 gig card (would prove to be horrendously slow)…check

1 gig card (high speed)…check

1 gig card (high speed)…at Praveen’s…I reckon I should start renting him rental for that.

2 gig card (high speed)…forget…dammit

zip lock bag jury rig (necessary to keep spray off my lovely L lens)…check

batteries (useless performance for some reason)…check

And it was off to Santa Barbara to meet Suma, and two other people whose names escape me. The Condor Express which was to take us out into the Channel and traverse Santa Cruz island was an impressive sight in the early morning light. I yawned, chewed on 10 altoids to keep my sore throat at bay and climbed on board. We all, being the chandyias that we are decided to go to the bow and stand in the full might of the wind as the high speed Express tried to prove exactly how high speed it was.

L-R: Early morning pelican; Hold on tight; Sailboats in the harbour; Buoy; Extra from Saving Nemo

It was exhilarating, if a bit chilly. The boat bounced for a few kilometers through some moderate chop and the back kicking spray somehow miraculously missed us and drenched a rather surprised girl next to us to the bone. Laughing at her (discreetly) and sympathizing with our friends, who almost immediately felt dizzy and had to sit down, Nalin and I enjoyed clearing our lungs and lowering our core body temperatures. After awhile we were both a bit cold and bored, but neither of course wanted to admit this to the other. So we stood and froze until finally the guide yelled out “there she blows.”

L-R: Kids enjoying the spray; Guide giving us the low down on the whales

Now if I was a blue whale and I heard that yelled out, I would most probably lift my skirts around my ankles and skooted (or the whale equivalent of that) and with good cause because for the last couple of decades that cry was usually followed by a booming sound and a curious burning itch followed I’m going to guess by incomprehensible pain as the harpoon grenade exploded in the whale. It is somewhat scary to think that we puny humans almost managed to wipe out the largest creature that has ever lived on the planet in the course of a few score years, from around 300,000 prewhaling to less than 5,000 now.

There she blows!

The first whale we saw was a pretty young though, and thankfully must not have experienced the niceties of the whaling industry. The experience of watching a whale is almost like that of elephants in Yala. The whale breathes on the surface for awhile, entertaining us with its spouts and then with a graceful arch of its back and a goodbye wave of its tailfins goes down deep. We would then wait out the whale until he surfaces anywhere from a few 100 feet to half a mile yonder. The sort of like the safari jeeps in Yala the boat is gunned to where the whale is languishing and the cycle is repeated….well…maybe in hindsight it not very similar to watching elephants in Yala.

Leaving the young female behind we moved on as a bunch of Dall’s porpoises came by to check the boat out and left without posing for my camera and then we did a perambulation around the island of Santa Cruz. I’m not sure if anybody out there is as geeky as me, but I was quietly excited to see this island close up because of a book I loved as kid, the Island of the Blue Dolphins in which the main character was marooned on one of the Channel Islands. The book was actually based on a true story and looking at that island I could only think that being marooned on such a god forsaken place would suck…there was not a single tree to be seen. I personally like palm trees to be present if I get marooned on an island.

L-R: Forbidding islands; Kelp in the shallows; bird crap spattered rocks

The trip back to shore was dramatic to say the least. We were initially joined by what seemed like a couple of hundred dolphins which took a break from lunching on some bait fish to come leaping over to play with the boat. I’ve decided to petition whoever is in charge of reincarnations that once I die, I want to be reborn as a dolphin. Seriously it just looks like they have so much fun. The speed at which they flew through and out of the water was breathtaking and with such little body movement. Nalin and I couldn’t keep our cameras straight and I almost beamed a little kid in the head taking what seemed like a couple of hundred pictures of the dolphins.

Dolphins at play

As if that wasn’t enough excitement there turned up not one, not two but three blue whales. And these guys were not juveniles. That was one of the few times that I have felt true awe in my life. The majesty was just unexplainable, all we could see was the grey backs as they came up to breath but the sheer size was inescapable. Their bodies were so huge their backs formed light blue pools as they were a meter or so below sea level. In fact the light blue appearance of their backs due to these mobile 'pools' is what gave the whale their 'Blue' name.

Two males cruising

There were two males fighting over a female, the female leading and the males following (thus proving that even with a brain the size of a small car, common sense does not prevail). All three gave us a fascinating show with their habit of arching their backs excessively during their preliminary breaths and then on their penultimate breath heading down with a languorous wave of their huge flippers. It truly was a sight I felt privileged to see and that’s no hyperbole.

Whale Flukes

As the boat turned around and started heading back to shore, one of the giant males gave a langorous wave with its huge fins as it sounded, water pouring off the fins as it went down into the depths of the Pacific.

Wave Goodbye

Dive Log: Cargo Wreck and Formosa Reef (11/02/2010)

Dive #21 and #22, diving off Colombo with Colombo Divers and divemaster (instructor in training) Jehan Dive Instructor/King Pin Paris and dive buddy Andy from Canada.

Cargo Wreck: Bottom time – 48 minutes; Depth – 26.8 meters

The sea looked like a giant silver-grey dish as I strolled into the dive center a bit behind schedule. Upul and Ravindra were as usual hard at work loading the boat and I kitted up and loaded my gear as well. The sky was overcast and fisher boats lurked in the light mist looking like ancient Arab dhows as our boat slipped out smoothly through the almost non-existent surf. The contrast between the ocean today and the last few times I’d been out was breathtaking, where the white caps and surges had predominated the last times, today, the boat moved as if it were drifting through silk, grey, smooth, silk peppered rather incongruously with terns perched on any bit of flotsam they can find. Flying fish skittered over the surface while here and there the surface boiled with shoals of fish.

It was only on the boat that I found out to my delight that we were going to be going to the Cargo Wreck, a huge ship that had been sunk around 5km off the coast of Dehiwala. Having seen the pictures to say that I was full of anticipation was the understatement of the century. As we hovered over the wreck we could see a giant shoal of fusiliers, orange against the dark blue of the sea. Rolling over and descending, I had to hold back from pinching myself as we sank through the shoal, slivers of fish glinting around us as the coral encrusted hull rose out of the depths. I'll admit though as the wreck loomed up from the depths, I felt a momentary shiver of fear. The holes in the deck were stark black and I felt that if I continued on my way down, I would be engulfed in the ship's depths, to be eaten by a gigantic octopus, or more likely for me, stung to death by a ridiculously small scorpionfish. I still struggle a bit with my buoyancy so I'll admit, I held onto the bright blue anchor rope quite hard as I pumped more air into my BC to stop my downwards descent.

Visibility was divine, at least 20 meters and the ship took my breath away. The terraces and turrets of the ship were swarming with fish life.  Looking up and away from the ship, the shoals of fusiliers were breathtaking. Sailing over and through the wreck was breathtaking, the portholes eerily black. I was imagining huge moray eels or other sea monsters lurking in their depths. The reality around me however was even more fascinating than imagined monsters. Red toothed triggerfish, Blackbar triggerfish, White spotted boxfish and Snappers were in abundance.

Ropes still coiled and undulated in the water and swimming closer I excitedly noted a large trumpetfish, green and yellow stripes with an incongruous minutely whirring tail. Exhaling to take myself down, I hovered eye to eye with him as he gazed at me impassively before moving away. Rounding the hull was another school of deep blue trevalley like fish, unidentified by all on the dive but beautiful in their majesty as they traversed the sunken steel of the ship. The fish ID issue is getting to be a bit of a bugbear for me as is the lack of an underwater camera, but I’m still in the fledgling stages of my diving career so I guess both will come in time.

The batfish were an especial highlight as they hid in the girders, apparently a bit shy of us. Two large psychedelic (in Jehan’s words) Oriental Sweetlips were also on show, much larger and prettier than those we had seen on the shallower reefs. Our little yellow friend even showed up but this time kept more of a distance.

I could go on and on about the fish. Truth be told I was so overwhelmed I can’t even describe coherently what I saw to a great extent. It was all a blur of bubbles, fins, colour and deep blue. The most poignant moment for me was however swimming over a life-raft that had dislodged when the ship sank and could be seen ghosting the sand. That really brought home to me that we were now drifting over what men had built, where they had worked and lived. I think that almost morbid, surreal realization is why I’m now hooked onto wreck diving.

Formosa Reef: Bottom time – 63 minutes; Depth – 13 meters

After the excitement (and depth) of the Cargo, we moved onto the good old Formosa Reef for a shallow, extended dive. It may only have been 13 meters and lacked the charisma of the Cargo Wreck but life was in abundance. A Nudibranch that was the biggest I have ever seen, a full 5 inches in length, white, black and yellow, Bi-coloured Blennies flirting elusively through the rocks and a baby Scorpion fish. After seeing the latter and noting the brilliant camouflage, I made a note to myself to be extra careful where I place my hands since Scorpion fish pack a pretty nasty wallop.

The highlight were the two Octopi however, both within a meter of each other, apparently a happy couple? With the larger one within a deep gully and the other, smaller specimen hiding in a crevice. I would have missed the smaller one if it hadn’t suddenly blushed white when I swam over it. Which of course intrigued me because I had never seen a rock change colour for me, which led me to investigate and discover the octopus. Andy found the larger one which as we hovered around, treated us to a display of its colour changing abilities, going from a deep russet to a midnight black.

Leaving the kaleidoscopic octopi behind, we surfaced and started the process of getting back onto the boat. We hadn’t really asked for any icing on the cake but we got it as a mere 10 meters away, a pod of dolphins suddenly surfaced. Hurriedly putting my mask back on I peered through the water to see if I could see them but the poor visibility defeated me. We watched from the water’s level as the dolphins turned away and headed out to sea, their black spotted grey bodies sliding through the oil slick water, looking oddly animatronic as they moved towards the horizon. My mind boggles to think how this could get any better.

Kalpitiya Dolphins with Adventure Lanka

Getting up at 1.30am has never been my forte. Though this time the prospect of going on a much awaited trip to Kalpitiya, a portion of the country I had never been to, and spotting dolphins, something I had done in California but not in Sri Lanka, did mitigate my early morning grumpiness. The trip was organized by the geniuses at Adventure Lanka, specifically Lasantha, Dhammika and Danushka. And I use the term geniuses with complete sincerity and something akin to awe, simply because they arranged a pretty flawless trip with 24 participants to Kalpitiya, Nawadankulam and Anavilumdawa with minimal complications be they travel or financial. This to someone who used to tear his hair out organizing a four person hike to the San Gabriel’s is something akin to a miracle.

Following the early morning pick up, some complications with the vans, four vehicles sped towards Kalpitiya. And I do mean sped, our van driver appeared to be under the impression that the dolphins were a stickler to schedules and every distance had to be covered quick time. After a brief stop for tea (so sweet I lost all sensation in my mouth for the rest of the day) and to inspect a rather spectacular accident, another two stops for photographic opportunities, we rolled into the somewhat obviously named Dolphin Beach Hotel.

We were greeted by a rather pleasant individual who admonished us lightly for being somewhat late and then kitted us up with some very comprehensive life jackets. I mean these life jackets were the shit, not your usual run-of-the-mill whitewater rafting jackets. Being strapped into these you could float to Antarctica and back and given some light rations and disinclined sharks, you would be little worse for wear.

Four boats loaded up with six people each and we headed off into the blue yonder after the dolphins. After the engine gunning for about 20 minutes, more boats became visible in the near distance. As the boats got closer, we excitedly noted some fins streaking out of the water as the dolphins emerged out of the blue. The photography was by necessity quite slipshod, with the boat bucking lke a wild bronco and the dolphins meandering around a very big ocean. As we shot we noted that these were some odd dolphins, for one thing they lacked the long characteristic snout and were much more flat faced. They were also quite somnambulistic, with a distinct aversion for jumping, though a few did poke their heads out of the water. It later turned out the ‘dolphins’ we were seeing were not the spectacularly aerobatic spinner dolphins we had hoped for but the more sedate Risso’s dolphins. A slight but marginal disappointment from a photographic viewpoint.

Just as we were getting to know the dolphins and noting the calves and figuring out how to get better shots, our boat’s engine decided it had only two options, full on or full off. Unfortunately that put paid to most of our efforts to follow the dolphins (and take shots of their characteristic 'standing up' performance in the water) and instead our minds moved onto whether we would actually make it back to shore. Regretfully taking leave of the rest of the boats and the dolphins we headed straight back to shore with our puttering engine before hugging the beach back to base.

Despite the disappointment, there was still some fun to be had with abundant birdlife with terns flying around and roosting on shore. A juvenile white bellied sea eagle came down an abortive fishing attempt providing further excitement while the boat almost capsizing after the engine got tangled in a fishing line was just too much excitement.

The boatman concluded the eventful trip by landing the boat in a manner I had never experienced before, basically, with a terse ‘hold on,’ running the boat full tilt at the beach with helpers to hold on once the boat grounded.

After staggering off the boat and regaining our sea legs, we heard that one of the other boats had off all things lost an engine. Apparently this had happened well out to sea and a rescue mission was launched with our boat, new engine and all, taking out another engine to the marooned boat. After noting that this operation would take around 2 hours, I did the only thing that made any sense to do at that time.

I had a nap.