Asia Dive News : Where the dictators don't go
Burma is an unforgettable paradise - if you stay 30 meters below the sea surrounding the Mergui Archipelago. Todd John enjoys exceptional scuba diving in a country otherwise indisposed
A s dusk begins to fade into night, the scuba boat Faah Yai (Big Sky) pulls away from the sleepy southern Burmese border port of Kawthaung en route to some of the most spectacular dive sites in Asia.
Ahead of me lies a week of diving in undersea caverns inhabited by huge sharks, tough but exhilarating sea currents and a staggering diversity of marine life. For a diver, this is about as good as it gets.
On board the well-appointed 25meter wooden vessel out of southern Thailand are six divers and a crew of seven. Our destination is the Mergui Archipelago, a chain of 800 islands about 300 kilometers north of Phuket.
The anticipation of what's ahead has me as giddy as a kid at Christmas. I sit on the bow enjoying the night air and think about completing one of the goals of my scuba diving life - to see what divers call the Burma Banks.
Several hours out of Kawthaung and the faint glow of Thailand to our back is gone, having given way to the impenetrable black of night on the Andaman Sea. A thunderstorm sends streaks of lightning against the sky, giving fleeting glimpses of the islands in the distance.
The light show, the cool air and the soft rain are exhilarating. I tear myself away to catch a few hours' sleep before the dive adventure begins.
Not long ago, this experience would have been virtually impossible. The sparsely populated Mergui islands, some uninhabited and as large as Phuket, were generally inaccessible to outsiders. Those who dared venture into these waters risked the twin perils of pirates and the dodgy Burmese Navy that plied the area.
But about a decade ago, the Phuket-based Thai diving industry sensed the opportunity to expand and began working with the Burmese government to open the waters.
In 1997, an agreement was reached that formalized entry- exit requirements and permits for operators, many of whom continued to lobby for ecotourism and conservation in the region. As a result, in 2004 Burma's government finally banned shark fishing in the archipelago, a crucial step in preserving the ecology of the area. Destructive dynamite fishing still takes place but there is hope that it will fade as the potential for tourism grows.
It is an uphill struggle. Burma's military dictatorships over many decades have left the country isolated and economically crippled. With its reputation for human rights abuses, stunted political development and a status as international pariah, it has never caught on as a tourist destination.
Burmese human rights campaigner Aung San Suu Kyi and many others have repeatedly called on tourists to stay away from the country until the generals give up power and restore democracy.
Yet compared to the days of near- absolute isolation under the late General Ne Win, when a traveler could only visit on a seven-day visa, the need for hard currency has forced the current crop of generals to open up a little and there is a fledgling tourism industry, one emerging aspect of which is scuba diving in the Mergui Archipelago.
Most of these live-aboard trips begin in Ranong in Thailand, where divers pass through Thai immigration and leave by boat for nearby Kawthaung to gain entry. On arrival at the sleepy outpost we present several copies of our passports, three photos and US$150 (HK$1,170) in crisp notes. The authorities relieve us of our passports for the duration of the trip, perhaps to prevent anyone from landing on mainland Burma and entering sensitive areas. Standard procedure, we are told.
The US$150 is an "entry fee" for what the dive operator says is a Burmese national park, although it is not listed as such by official government Web sites.
A bell ringing topside just after dawn signals that it is time to get into the water. Minutes later we are on deck and getting geared up. The boat slows down and the captain monitors his sonar for the exact dive entry near a place called Shark Cave. When he is finally satisfied, we are overboard and on our way down 30 meters.
Now the trip has really begun. Currents are strong on this first dive and the faster a diver can descend through the cross currents, the closer he or she will end up to the target. I am too slow and the group gets away from me. Finally reaching bottom and gaining a hand-hold on the rock face, a surge batters me one way, then switches and pounds me in another direction.
This is not a dive for beginners. I get my bearings and am thankful for the brilliant, clear water. I can see the bubbles of my dive buddies.
By a stroke of luck my friend comes hurtling towards me, using the tide to propel him. At the last moment he reaches for a grip, before the tide shifts and threatens to suck him back. We begin a quick underwater ballet of first waiting and holding fast against the up- swell and then letting go and shooting through the water with the down current, seeking another hand-hold before the next surge.
We make it around the corner of the island above us, finally sheltered from the powerful shifts. We can relax and look around.
Expansive walls of hard and soft corals are teeming with activity. From the smallest clown fish to schools of large grouper, barracuda, sea turtles and moray eels, the water is alive with a colorful spectacle of life.
This is why divers choose the Mergui Archipelago. The biodiversity and the sheer volume of aquatic life here is unmatched in the region. The area is not over-fished or over-dived and one rarely finds the type of damage to the reef that is caused by anchors, fishing nets or abandoned fish traps common to resort sites.
These clear waters afford the opportunity to experience "frontier diving" rarely seen by others.
As the days and dives unfold in this scuba paradise we are treated to large aquatic life - manta rays and many species of shark are not uncommon. At the appropriately named Shark Cave Island, our team makes its way into a cavern that passes from one side of the island to the other. Inside, we happen upon a 3-4 meter nurse shark resting in the comfort and security of its underwater abode. This is a truly another world.
At night in these idyllic waters, only my torch provides any perspective on the environment. For the uninitiated it can be daunting. Octopus, crabs and lobster are more prominent at night and it is not unusual for a curious sea creature to shadow a diver under cover of darkness. Aiming my light over to my buddy I notice a few large and curious barracuda just centimeters from his head.
Later, we happen on a set of clefts in the rocks that is home to something big. Maybe it is a shark or a sting ray. Angling ourselves at different cracks in the rocks for a vantage point we suddenly notice the body ripple is very snake-like. It is a giant moray eel, with the girth of its body as big as the circumference of a grown man.
One of the best experiences of a night dive is to turn off the torch. You won't see much - it is too dark. But when your eyes adjust and you stir the water with your hands you will provoke a magical explosion of light from bioluminescent plankton.
For avid divers, the Mergui Archipelago, with its lush, pristine seascapes stretching from the deep ocean floor to the towering reefs above, is not to be missed.
Burma is slowly opening up. With the right efforts to preserve the underwater ecology of its coastal waters, Burma and the Mergui Archipelago could easily become a top destination for divers seeking the extraordinary.
I just hope that when the opening comes, as it surely will, things are done properly. We need a Mergui Archipelago. We don't need another Phuket.
Copyright 2006 Todd W. John. To book a liveaboard trip to the Mergui Archipelago or for more information please see www.siamdivers.com
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