Sounds like a cliché title? Indeed, but perhaps the best way to illustrate this type of travel or 'holiday' of choice. Responsible travel they call it, in fact, it is spending money on a month long holiday in tropical Mauritius, while contributing to a Conservation Society with the world’s most valuable commodity, your time.
Early mornings are standard for most boat days and especially the pre-dawn launches. Life-Jackets, petrol tanks, data capture equipment is all sleepily thrown into the bakkie for the 300m trip to the beach (just too far to carry at 04h45). Here we lug all down onto the sand and wait for ‘Stenella’ the yellow and red research boat with its captain, Bruno – by far the coolest Mauritian you will meet. A family man with a warm heart and a seriously smooth, liquid, reggae voice. We head out with the sun breaking through the edge of the mountain over our shoulders as Bruno hits full throttle and we go cruising from the lagoon clear into the sapphire sea. This is my favourite part of the day as you dip your head, tighten your hat and then lift your face to the morning’s pure, pristine and salty air while standing and bracing against the slapping swell rolling under the nose of the boat as. Flying fish compete alongside us and sea birds dart and dive in the adjacent air.
All eyes are searching for that first dorsal fin that breaks the surface. As it does, the boat becomes a hive of activity as Bruno points us towards the Spinners or Bottlenose groups. Clipboards fly out of the boxes and GPS co-ordinates are called out and recorded. Cameras already focused and shutters click and whirr as Imogen and Adele (our researchers) try to capture clear images of the dorsal fins for identification. Data is recorded, number of animals, population structure, water clarity, temperature and behaviour. All this while I frantically try to balance as the boat rocks over the Le Morne swells. For some reason I am always amazed at how off balance I am stumbling around like a Sunday morning drunk while pretending to have it all under control. We watch as the hoards of boats cruise in and drop their tourists with snorkels as close the dolphins as possible.
After about 4 hours we sadly head back to shore, the sun is high and the salt has started forming a decent crust on my legs – I sometimes think I could get a part time job as a salt lick. Bruno never holds back en-route to shore and we all just stand absorbing the sea air at full speed. Into the lagoon and everything is off loaded as we trudge home, the heat scorching the sand under our feet. The remainder of the day is spent entering data and doing fin-cutting – a necessary evil. We sift through the hundreds of photos of dorsals, cropping and adjusting the clarity to allocate the identities of the dolphins into the catalogues.
Morning and afternoon snorkels for fish cataloguing, tourist surveys and turtle counting are all in a day’s work here. Maybe not everyone’s cup of tea, spending your hard earned money and holiday time doing volunteer work, but while doing this one has the opportunities that come with it. Up close and personal encounters with sperm whales, dolphin biopsies, swimming alone without the boats in the early hours dodging jellyfish and diving down to the hear the dolphins, catamaran trips and coral splendour. Quarts of Phoenix beer and swims at sunset, free games of pool and Creole lessons from the bartender. Roti delivery at lunchtime and listening to sperm whales communicate and hunt 800m below you. Oh yes and not to mention the free t-shirt! These all certainly tick a number of boxes off my holiday checklist but also off my conscience of doing something right. My only advice, try it out – if anything it will make you realise some of the more important things in life and the fragility of our planet.
