Thursday is shovelnose, zaps and tridacna too.

I woke to a bit of commotion and a cryptic text from Miriam with some emojis that were too tiny for me to make out first thing in the morning before my eyes come to focus. Our ever capable Skipper, Richie was off to a bit of a rough start on the day, as his first order of business was to manage a problem with the ummmm plumbing. There are many reasons I would not (and probably could not) get my Captain’s license, but one of them is having to deal with temperamental heads. Richie is incredibly experienced and has seen it all, and lucky for us, he made quick work of whatever the ummm problem was. Thank you does not seem like enough.

Aaaaaaaaanywayyyyyyyy….that little bit of unpleasantness out of the way and we were off to our first swim spot - one of my favorites from last time - the small island of St. Pierre. Uninhabited, this little mound has lush jungle atop some gorgeous granite boulders, with loads of marine life below the surface. It’s quintessentially Seychelles. 

I always hesitate to wax on about a particular swim site tooooo much, especially in regard to wildlife. Things change and animals move, even the sea stars (reference to Hopper’s Sea Star Folly of 2009)! But I was so excited for our St. Pierre circumnavigation I just couldn’t help myself, and I spilled the tea on how great this place was last visit. Typical.

As we were donning caps and goggles, Simon noticed a crazy creature wiggle waggling along on the white sand beneath the boat, about 20 ft. down. It turned out to be a Shovelnose Ray (Glaucostegus typus) with remora in tow! I jumped in with the GoPro and got a few frames and a little video. It appeared St. Pierre was ready to deliver!

Nine more splashes behind me and we made our way about 3 or 4 hundred yards to the island. We decided on a counterclockwise circumnavigation course hugging the shore line. Almost immediately we all began to feel a little zap zap …zap. Arg! Sea lice. These are tiny planktors, usually larval jellyfish, that feel like a little pin prick and can cause a mild rash, especially on our more sensitive bits. I for one always have a camera tucked into the back of my suit, which gives the pesky zappers easy access to my tender skin beneath. Youch. We had a little discussion…keep at it or bail? Just then a huge school of Powder blue surgeonfish (Acanthurus leucosternon) swept past like the Pied Piper and so we followed. This lovely blue school led us to a pulsating school of pale yellow Convict tang (Acanthurus triostegus), named for their black vertical bands. They leapfrogged and do-see-doed around one another in a rolling ball. Hypnotic and so cool.

Around the corner the zaps seemed to ease a bit, so we kept on. Another corner and we seemed to be in the thick of zapville again. But one tropical fish school led to the next, and our corner fever was equal parts curiosity about what we’d see next and optimism that there would be a change in voltage. We came through schools of Sergeant majors and electric blue chromis and parrot fish - the pink and mint green ones and the big lumpy turquoise ones - until we reached the other end of the island. Here, Some of our swimmers decided they’d had enough of the zapping, and fully satisfied with the wildlife show, returned to the boat. No judgements - it’s not easy to swim in a zappy sea. Some of us rounded a large rock outcrop, and by some miracle found clear water free of discomfort. So we bobbed and explored and looked under ledges and found more colorful fish species that delighted and wowed us. We eventually made our way back to the boat which was a mixed journey of pleasure - schools of Palette Surgeonfish (Paracanthurus hepatus)  but also some more zapping. As Miriam said, the zaps are temporary. The memories of these wildlife sightings will last a lifetime. 

Lunch was a roti affair, with fish, beef or vegetarian variants on offer. Where in this tiny galley Lou Lou kept a perfectly ripe watermelon to serve afterwards, I’ll never know.

Romesie set about on a slow and gentle sail after lunch, to encourage resting in the shade and naps in cool cabins during the highest UV index hours of the day; a high of 12 out of 15. Yikes. Not a lot of places to hide in this equatorial band of the planet.

We arrived casually at Anse Lazio, home to a perfectly wild and lush jungle beach. We planned our swim for 330 after things had cooled just a touch.

The last few trips our guests have planned in advance to have some matching bathers for funsies. For this special trip, a custom suit incorporating the Seychelles flag and SwimVacation’s sea star logo was designed and ordered by all. Time to wear them! This instantly leveled up our unity, along with our custom beaded bracelets made especially for this trip by Samantha, our SV beader. We did a round of pictures and jumped in.

To the rocks! We made for a pile of them, explored, swam along a beach, explored the next pile and so on.

I described for the ladies Tridacna, the giant clam (Tridacna gigas), as I had been surprised to see one here in the shallows last time. We looked and looked to no avail. Distractions in the form of incredible schools of jacks, tangs and the boys fishing from the rocks didn’t help our concentration. Myssie decided to make the search her mission. She found an empty tridacna shell burrowed into the coral heads, but later found a living, thriving specimen in just a few feet of water. Hard to see in the photos which made it even more impressive that she saw it at all. Well done Myss!

The curious little hawksbill turtle was a joy, and a swim through - a small underwater passage between boulders - made a really nice swim even better. Miriam impressed me with her courage. She does NOT like to be in caves or swim under things, and yet she confidently announced she would do it. And swim through she did. Natalie and Catharine surfed a roller right between two huge rocks, and Dana pretty much smiled throughout the entire swim. New to us, she showed up game and has thrived through every minute of this trip so far. I marveled at the plentiful coral heads atop boulders beneath the surface. I returned to Seychelles braced for bad news with regard to the state of coral populations here. These islands were specifically noted in the global coral bleaching event of 2023. So far, I’ve been very pleasantly surprised. I’ve seen one or two small bleached coral heads, but generally what we’ve seen has been healthy, even in this warm water. I’m so hopeful it’ll stay this way.

We took the long way home, putting our heads down and long-stroking to the corner of the bay where we discovered another Porcupine ray, then turned 90º and made for the boat. There were more zaps, but in spite of this, everyone sort of lolled in the water and took their time rinsing off, all in matching suits, one team, one bonded mermaid (and man) family. 

Lisa gave us a true taste of Seychelles with Giraffe crab dinner. It takes some work to get at the sweet meat, but worth the effort especially at a table of friends. Her lemon posset was posset-ively the perfect finale to the day.

And so it was that today, the Indian Ocean charged a small admission to swim among its glittering  jewels. As we bobbed in the waning heat of the day, it seemed to me that everyone here was quite willing to pay it. What was discomfort in the morning seemed to be just part of earning this once in a lifetime experience by day’s end.

As the sun sank into the sea tonight, a cheer of delight crossed the cockpit as the notorious Green Flash thrilled our gang. Last zap of the day.

Love,

Heather