Tales of a Maldives Virgin - Part I

[krawlings]

keep writing You got me hooked . What next???????????!!!!!!!!!!!

 

[FrannieC]

more please!!

 

[Doc]

It's been 36 hours and I'm jonesing for more.

Question and Puzzlement: I have stayed any number of times on Male itself, looking out from my window at the airport just across the channel. An airport which sits on it's own island.

 

[cooperscuba]

It's been 36 hours and I'm jonesing for more.

Question and Puzzlement: I have stayed any number of times on Male itself, looking out from my window at the airport just across the channel. An airport which sits on it's own island.

Maybe they've changed the rules. Maybe I was misinformed. Maybe I misunderstood.

---------- Post added April 21st, 2014 at 10:17 PM ----------



---------- Post added April 21st, 2014 at 10:22 PM ----------

“Yeah, ‘fraid you’ll have to wait until tomorrow to start the Advanced Open Water. Your instructor has an Open Water course which has overrun a little. Anyway, here’s the course manual; you’ll want to start with the Deep, Navigation and Night Dive sections, ideally before tomorrow”, so Klaus said, Reethi Ra’s Resort Dive Base Leader.

“Okay, could I make a few shore dives today?” I inquired, almost begged.

“Funny you should ask that and on another day I would have said ‘Yes’ but ... unfortunately for you, there’s just myself here today, the other guys are all busy. Sorry. Like I said, read those chapters and we’ll see you after breakfast tomorrow.”

Bummer. Okay, not the result I’d fallen asleep praying for the previous night, and it left me feeling a bit miffed. Admittedly I was only twenty four hours in to a two week vacation, still had 10 days of diving to look forward to, and tomorrow would be diving. Some people are just never satisfied, hey?

I decided to explore the island, as I wouldn’t be diving ... which took all of ten minutes, and that was with a little dalliance. Reethi Ra Resort was at this time only thirteen hundred yards long (when the tide was out) and nine hundred yards at its widest point, it wasn’t the type of place where you could lose yourself. One end of the island was home to the dive center, the water-sports center, bar, shop, reception, staff accommodation, and breakfast/restaurant area. At the other end of the island, a sandy beach that lead onto a handful of water bungalows. A single dirt path running down the middle of the island served as the islands only thoroughfare and, scattered either side of the path, were the less than salubrious beach huts which were home to those of us who’s budget didn’t stretch to a bungalow, and maybe the occasional guest who suffered from aquaphobia.

I spent the best part of the rest of the day alternating between reading the course manual, snorkeling and sleeping. By late afternoon I had finished all my chapters, snorkeled to the extent that I was starting to recognize every individual fish on the house reef, and decided it must be about time for a beer, so ambled off to the bar.

“I’d like a beer, please”, I asked Thomas who, like most of the bar staff on the island, hailed from Sri Lanka. The Maldives is a very orthodox Muslim country, so you usually find the Maldivians working on the islands in all roles except those that require serving alcohol. For this reason, the bars are usually staffed with people from India and Sri Lanka (being the two closest countries to the Maldives), or so I was informed.

“No, you want to go on a banana boat ride”, Thomas informed me with a tone of voice that could have been suggesting that these were not the droids I was looking for.

“No, fairly sure it was beer I wanted.” I replied. I knew what I wanted and it wasn’t a boat ride, nor a joker for a barkeep, just a beer, a whole beer, and nothing but the beer.

“No, you really want to go on a banana boat ride ...”, Thomas reiterated.

“No ...”

“ ... there’s beer.”

“... beer?”

“And it’s free”, confided Thomas in an almost whisper.

“Free?”

“Free beer.”

“Really? Mmm ... that sounds too good to be true. What’s the catch?”

“No catch, you’ve just got to go to Tuna Island for the beer. On the banana boat. And you’ve got to go now now. Follow me.”

Thomas then lead me to the island’s water-sports center where a group of blokes were just putting a banana boat in the water. The group was comprised of four bar staff, George (another guest who had been shanghaied), the speedboat driver and Michael, who was in charge of the water-sports center, dealing with water sking, windsurfing, and banana boat rides.

“Michael, I’ve got the last one, lets go”, Thomas called out, explaining that they needed a sixth man to fill the banana boat and I’d happened at the appropriate moment.

A few minutes later six of us are riding the banana boat from Hell to Tuna Island, with Michael and the boat driver alternating at the boat wheel, seeing who can cause the best wipe out. In front of us, when we were not being wiped out, was Tuna Island, behind it on the horizon, large, dark storm clouds with the occasional flash of lightening. Storm coming in.

Tuna Island, at 2km away, is the closest inhabited island to the Reethi Ra Resort, and was (and possibly still is) an all-inclusive German resort island. The bar staff christened it ‘Tuna Island’ on account that the chefs there served tuna, albeit in various dishes, for breakfast, lunch and dinner, every day of the week, every week of the year. The bar staff from the two islands had come to a very amicable arrangement - one week Tuna Island’s staff would visit Reethi Ra for complimentary ‘Afternoon Drinkies’, the following week Reethi Ra’s staff would enjoy ‘Afternoon Drinkies’ at the pleasure of the Tuna boys. It had to be ‘Afternoon Drinkies’, as they would all then be working their respect bars later the same evening except for, on this occasion, Thomas. This particular day was was also Thomas’ birthday, so both sets of staff were in more than their usual boisterous moods, and the drinks flowed fast and many as well as some ridiculously small jellies (the food substance you make and stick in a fridge rather than jellyfish) that for some reason were served in shot glasses but contained “Absolutely no vodka”, as well as slices of frozen watermelon that too contained “Absolutely no vodka”.

Look, I was fairly young and naive. How the hell was I meant to know that ‘Absolut‘ was the name of a Swedish vodka? And serving it in jelly and frozen watermelon? Genius!

“We need ... hic! ... we need to ... hic! ... go now”, said a horizontal Michael a few hours later, after keeling off his bar stool for the umpteenth time. Thomas had by now disappeared to one of Tuna Island’s staff quarters as it had been decided, after he’d keeled off his stool for the umpteenth time, that it would be best if he didn’t go to his bar shift tonight, better if they left him there (on Tuna Island) and collected him on the tomorrow, and especially better if his manager didn’t see him in his current state.

“We gotta, gotta go ... storm coming ... now ... we gotta, storm innit? ... Go now.”, Michael again tried to impress upon the group the need to make waves. “No messin‘ about ... now ... storm soon ... just ride ... no funny stuff.”

Eventually he managed to cut through the drunken conversations, and pointed out the weather. The sky overhead was now storm dark (even if it was also fast approaching sundown), the lightening much closer, more frequent, more bright, and the thunder had been rolling over the sea, louder which each subsequent thunderclap, the whole time during Afternoon Drinkies. Apparently the general consensus regarding a 2km long banana boat ride on the Indian Ocean, during a storm, is it’s a bit of a dumb idea, even for a bunch of inebriates; it was indeed time to make our departure. So after we’d said our goodbyes and staggered, some almost crawling, to the beach, we boarded our respective transports with the exception of Thomas.

Just before we left, and a little more coherently, Michael succinctly said “Don’t **** about on the banana boat; we’re going straight back to the island.” Good advice.

Do you know how hard it is to regain your rhythm on a banana boat? Impossible. One moment you’re racing along smoothly, the next there’s a lot of choppy water. One moment you’re bouncing in tandem with your trusty banana, the next you’re going down as your banana goes up and, boing, you’re off and in the sea.

I'm in the last seat on the banana and no one notices my abrupt departure.

In the speed boat Michael, who's steering, doesn’t notice.

The driver, who's actually passed out, doesn't notice but he hasn’t noticed anything for a while.

I’m drunk and in the middle of the Indian Ocean ...

… the closest islands are a kilometre away ...

… a storm is approaching …

… and night has fallen.

Bugger.

 

[TSandM]

That's quite a hook! Looking forward to the next installment.

 

[cooperscuba]

Yeah, a small tribute to the old Flash Gordon serials

 

[DandyDon]

One moment you’re bouncing in tandem with your trusty banana, the next you’re going down as your banana goes up and, boing, you’re off and in the sea.

I'm in the last seat on the banana and no one notices my abrupt departure.

In the speed boat Michael, who's steering, doesn’t notice.

The driver, who's actually passed out, doesn't notice but he hasn’t noticed anything for a while.

I’m drunk and in the middle of the Indian Ocean ...

… the closest islands are a kilometre away ...

… a storm is approaching …

… and night has fallen.

Bugger.

Let me guess: Everyone is too cool to wear life vests on moving boats - even if they had some?

 

[cooperscuba]

Let me guess: Everyone is too cool to wear life vests on moving boats - even if they had some?

No, just dumb

 

[rambaldi]

You better not make us wait too long after that ending.

 

[victor]

No, just dumb

and/or drunk, but I suspect not for long.