I spent the first six months of 2010 studying for my degree in England, most of that time spent gazing wistfully out of lecture hall windows at the gray, urban sprawl of central London, dreaming of white-sand beaches and palm trees. I wanted to exchange the roar of traffic with the echoing bass of breaking surf, and the unsmiling people going about their daily business with the colorful denizens of a tropical reef. I didn’t drop out, although I was tempted a few times, instead, I spent time that I should have been studying researching overseas volunteer projects that would let me get back to the ocean and simultaneously do something worthwhile. I found that there are an amazing number of available options, from turtle conservation projects in Costa Rica to working with bull sharks in Fiji. In the end, I chose a project by volunteer organization All Out Africa, which would let me spend a month in Mozambique researching whale sharks and manta rays in conjunction with the Marine Megafauna Foundation.
Volunteering for a Marine Conservation Organization
I was a little nervous when I boarded my flight from Heathrow. It’s one thing to dream of escape, and quite another to find yourself alone and en route to a country about which you know very little. The project was based in Tofo, a tiny coastal town in Mozambique’s Inhambane province; arrival involved an international flight to Johannesburg, and then a second flight aboard a worryingly tiny plane to Inhambane itself. It was only when I glanced out the window before touchdown that I knew I had made the right decision, for below the airplane’s wings spread the world I had been fantasizing about for months. Aquamarine seas lined with great swathes of coral reef lapped silvery shores, where ranks of palm trees intersected with sandy roads and tiny matchstick villages. When we landed and the plane doors opened, I stepped out into a heat so intense I could almost taste it. My fellow volunteers and I were picked up by one of the project coordinators in a dilapidated minivan that would take us to the coast, and as we drove, the unique sights and scents of Africa that filtered through the open windows felt to me like coming home. On either side of the road, palm plantations and fields of swaying elephant grass spread out towards the horizon, while children ran from the villages to wave at us as we passed. The smell of dust baking in the heat mingled with the wood smoke of roadside cook fires, and the distant salty sea.
After a while, the tarred road gave way to soft sand, and the dive center signs lining the side of the road confirmed our arrival in Tofo itself. Strung out along a perfect expanse of the Indian Ocean, Tofo casts an instant spell over all those that visit it. The town is defined equally by its thriving Mozambican culture and the healthy dose of dive fanaticism that acts as the town’s lifeblood. Well-equipped dive centers sit side by side with a local market selling fish and fruit and brightly colored African cloth. It is a place where everyone goes barefoot, from the locals to the dreadlocked veterans of the international dive community. My fellow volunteers and I shared a house with rickety steps that took us directly onto the beach; there were 10 of us in total, hailing from all over the world and each sharing a passion for the ocean. After our orientation, we settled quickly into our role as volunteers. Each morning, we woke up with the breeze off the ocean stirring the gauze curtains in our room. We checked the rotation to see whether we’d be conducting reef transects or joining an ocean safari to help with whale-shark research, or climbing the dunes at the far end of the beach to count and record the humpbacks migrating past the point.
It was a charmed month, where we rose early and went to bed late, and yet never felt tired. Instead of taking the tube to work, we walked barefoot across shifting sand to the dive center affiliated with the project, just a few houses down the beach. We lived in our wetsuits, and spent our days in the company of whales and sharks and turtles. We learned how to identify every species and subspecies of reef fish, and how to count them accurately during reef transects in order to establish the health of the reef on different dive sites. We learned how to attach lasers on a bracket to the project’s underwater cameras, and calibrate them so that they were exactly one meter apart so that when we took photos of the whale sharks, we’d be able to accurately measure their size. We learned how to determine the sharks’ gender, and which areas of their bodies to photograph in order to differentiate between individuals based upon their spot pattern. We processed reams and reams of data, uploading manta and whale shark sightings to an international database, which would allow researchers worldwide to use our findings in their own conservation efforts.
We dived all week, and when we had weekends off, we dove for fun. Tofo’s reefs were spectacular, healthy and thriving with life, and at that time, echoing to the song of the humpback migration. One of my greatest moments during my time in Mozambique came on our last day, when a female humpback approached our group on our safety stop, the white of her pectorals glinting as she circled us and then disappeared back into the blue. Other highlights included my first whale shark sighting, when for a moment I found myself alone with the world’s largest fish, and my first manta, wheeling and circling above the reef as we hovered over the seafloor below. The month I spent volunteering in Mozambique was, up until that time, the best I’d ever spent. I loved knowing that while having the time of my life, I was also helping the ocean by contributing to the invaluable work of the Marine Megafauna Foundation. Toward the end of my time in Tofo, I desperately wished that I could slow time, or better still, halt it altogether; and yet, when the final day came and the minivan arrived to take us to the airport, I left with the feeling that I had gained something that would last long after I got home.
My volunteering experience gave me certainty that a career in diving was the right thing to do. It also gave me a passion for marine conservation, as a result of seeing firsthand what we stand to lose if we don’t fight for the future of our oceans. I cannot recommend volunteering more highly to anyone with a love for the marine environment, whether it be the project in Mozambique or any one of the countless equally worthwhile projects elsewhere. There is normally a cost, which is used to cover the expense of your accommodation and food and to contribute to the work of the facilitating organization. For those who are thinking of volunteering though, be warned: I went to Mozambique looking for an escape from reality; what I got was the inspiration to pursue a brand-new reality instead.
