Safaga, Egypt
March 19
Snorkeling in the Red Sea
Three Days in Paradise
Day One
The Red Sea is a narrow inland sea separating the Arabian Peninsula and western Asia from northeastern Africa. In the north, the Sinai Peninsula divides the Red Sea into the Gulf of Suez and the Gulf of Aqaba. The Suez Canal connects the Red Sea with the Mediterranean Sea.
We had been plowing through the Red Sea for several days-getting closer and closer to the Gulf of Suez.
Once we sailed through the Suez Canal, sadly enough, our trip would be winding down. But before that, when we reached Safaga, Egypt, the moment I'd been waiting for during the entire trip would be almost at hand. The Red Sea is famed for many things, but especially for snorkeling. The coral reefs in that region of the world present some of the best snorkeling and diving in the world. And we were ready to go!
Who's we? Our little core of friends from Ocean Explorer days, David and wife Donna, and my friends Jackie and Vi had decided to hang together. At the port of Safaga we planned to hire a taxi or van to take us to the nearby Holiday Inn resort.
At 8 a.m. on March 19, resembling a band of gypsy tourists in bathing suits, tee shirts, and pareos, snorkels and fins at the ready, we walked down the R2 gangway. However, before we could embark on our snorkeling adventure that day passports in hand, we had to trudge in the heat half a mile to the port gate. When we arrived, we found it was guarded by machine-gun toting Egyptian police.
It isn't easy getting into Egypt, we soon found out. Each of us had to leaf through our passport to identify the right passport page (which isn't simple when you've been in and out of many countries,) present the stamped entry into Egypt page, and have our photo checked to see we weren't some terrorist, spy or mad bomber. Our attire, of course, was unmistakably American. All we wanted to do was find some good snorkeling-- but that didn't deter the soldiers armed with stern faces and frightening guns who insisted on searching us. And there was no joking involved! After a few minor mishaps (one of us thought she'd left her passport on the ship), we were ushered one by one through the gate. Free at last. But not for long.
Once outside the heavily guarded gate, we steeled ourselves for the onslaught of Egyptians offering their services. Numerous taxi drivers, resembling a swarm of locusts gesturing and squabbling in Arabic, descended on our group. David, at 6'2'' with imposing grey hair and pony tail, was our designated negotiator. But even with David's superior haggling skills, we could only find a four-passenger taxi rather than the larger van we were looking for. But finally, we settled on a cheap price with yet another Mohammed and crammed ourselves like sardines into his non-air conditioned taxi. There, the trouble began because David's wife, Donna, was the best choice to sit on David's lap in the front seat. She pried herself onto David's lap, sitting at an awkward angle and hanging onto the door frame as we tried to shoe horn five people into a taxi meant for three or four. Unfortunately, Jackie didn't see Donna's precarious hand-hold on the door. When she slammed the back door shut, Donna's hand was caught in it.
You could hear Donna (and David) shouting all the way to the blue Mosque in downtown Safaga. And for good reason! Egyptian taxi drivers have a habit of locking the back seat doors once they take the rider as prisoner in their cab, and that's exactly what had happened here. After several panicked minutes, finally, Jackie rammed the door open. All of us, but especially Jackie were very shaken. Donna examined her hand; it was badly swollen, bruised on three fingers, and turning purple but not broken, she decided. This was a major incident of more bad luck for Donna because in the past several days she had experienced several accidents. First, she broke bones on one foot tripping on steps on a Singapore ferry boat. The next day she broke the toe on her other foot at the next port. She had taken the accidents gracefully and was limping around bravely. But now the fingers on her right hand were swollen and unable to bend. She had only the use of her left hand, and we weren't sure how long she would last before losing use of all limbs-so we let her know she was accident prone and we might have to ship her back home! (You can joke about anything in the right company.)
You can imagine how that affected our group---but. With Donna's blessing, we moved on insistently to find ourselves a snorkeling boat. Arriving at the Holiday Inn, we strolled to the beach and out to a dive shop on the dock. There we found just what we had hoped for---a snorkeling boat was leaving within the hour for an all-day trip to Tobias Island eight kilometers out in the Red Sea. There would be much snorkeling and lunch on the boat, all for $10 apiece for the day. We were on.
As we embarked, my first thought (apprehension is closer to it) was that the sea seemed a bit rough, but I bottled up my anxiety and as we approached the first snorkeling reef, I swallowed my fears and got ready to jump into the jade green water topped by white caps rising several feet above the surface. I realized that the reef was quite a distance away from our anchoring spot, but no one else seemed to be bothered by this.
We had introduced ourselves to the party of seven snorkeling on the boat with us---there were two sisters and their husbands and families all of whom spoke Arabic and were originally from Egypt. Through my usual interrogation process I had found out one family lives on Muddy Branch Road in North Potomac, Md., just down the road from me. We introduced ourselves in the middle of the Red Sea. Next we learned that the other family, upon further questioning, lives in Dallas, Texas. Their daughter goes to the same school that David's niece does---and is in the same class. So much for learning about different cultures in foreign lands.
The snorkeling began. Ali, our boat captain, noticed that my anxieties were mounting higher and higher as each wave slapped up against our bobbing craft. He tried to soothe me, saying "Don't worry, madam, I'll take care of you" when I backed off from jumping into the cold seas with fin and mask in place. I didn't believe him.
Meanwhile, Jackie, David and Donna didn't hesitate. They took the plunge into the cold waters of the Red Sea, and off they swam toward the reef. Gathering all my courage, I held my breath and jumped the ladder. Rising to the surface with bubbles forming around my head, I tried to breathe calmly, but almost immediately my mask and snorkel pipe began to fill with water. I choked as the salty sea invaded my mouth and panicked, I began flailing around kicking with my fins to try to adjust to the water. Boat captain Ali didn't miss a beat--he was at my side immediately-no doubt fearing that I was drowning. He said, "OK. I help," and grabbed me by the waist, holding me up with strong grip of both hands while I gathered my wits and breath. Then he hauled me, somewhat like a hooked whale, through the deep water and rising waves, heading off toward the reef that seemed so many waves away. Once there, he held me above the waves while I gathered my breath and the strength to take care of myself-not easy in this environment of waves washing over my head as I bobbed up and down uncertainly in the crystal blue waters.
I must say, this was not my finest moment. I had succeeded in mastering the snorkeling process the previous year in Bora Bora, the Maldives and Seychelles, but these waters seemed more difficult for me to negotiate. However, with captain Ali's help, I didn't embarrass myself too much and made it through the afternoon. By day's end, I had even succeeded in snorkeling unassisted---quite a feat, given my lack of confidence and snorkeling skill!
And what about my rescuer, captain Ali? On board his boat, he kissed both my cheeks, hugged me, asked me to marry him and to become a partner in his boat business-all in his Egyptian tongue. The only words he could say in English were, "No problem, and marry me." But his body language told the story! I was flattered, except for one fact-- he also made the same proposals to Vi-and kissed every female passenger aboard---as well as David several times. (David was the only one who objected.)
In mid-afternoon, he served us lunch- an unknown bony fish, sticky rice and RC Cola ; then off we rode to another calmer snorkeling site. There I found I could navigate on my known, but my rescuer Ali insisted on jumping to my assistance once more, holding me tight and hauling me to the coral reef once more. I must say, I didn't object! He was built like a superman and had the agility of a sleek seal in the deep water, and later I found out why-- he's a star on the Safaga soccer team. Nevertheless, I decided that already with one wife, he had enough to handle. I declined his generous offer of marriage but said he could haul me to any reef in his Red Sea anytime!
This first day of snorkeling had led to my first sightings of beautiful outcroppings of deep pink living coral and groups of boldly painted fish in the Red Sea. But I felt intimidated by the power of the rolling emerald waves, and this apprehension kept me breathing somewhat uneasily and worried that I had to clear my mask several times because I hadn't sealed it properly.
Still, this was my first experience of snorkeling in the Red Sea-despite my uncertainty, it was a thrilling experience, and I vowed I'd be more courageous the next day.
Safaga Two
March 20
A Second Day of Snorkeling
The second day dawned brilliantly clear-as always in this part of the world-and we five were still exhausted from our all-day snorkeling efforts of the previous day. We decided to take a late breakfast and then head back to the dock at the Holiday Inn and another day of snorkeling for the afternoon.
This time we hired a glass bottom snorkeling boat run by, guess who, Ali's nephew, Mohammed, of course. No problem, was also his favorite expression! Our group of five and six others climbed on board for $10 apiece. The plan was to view life beneath the sea through the glass bottom boat and then snorkel off the beach close to Tobias Island. We shared the boat with a young German couple from Berlin and the a handsome Croatian wine steward and British photographer from our own R2 ship. (We didn't recognize the guys in the brief swim suits without their wine holder and camera for the first hour but then became fast friends that day and for the rest of the cruise.)
Another day in paradise began-only this time we had the advantage of azure, glassy deep emerald-hued seas--with not a wave in sight, which reassured me no end. This day, I vowed, I would be less timid and would get to the reef boldly on my own power, unassisted by a powerful Egyptian safety net.
Was I wrong! Mohammed, a "hunk" whom I later found out was in his last year of school to become a university teacher of industrial education-was the captain of the little boat. Almost immediately, perhaps with superior intuition that goes with experience at sea, he devined that Vi and I required his help while snorkeling. His boat was smaller than the previous days', and it had no second deck. There was a portable ladder, which leaned out at a rather sharp angle in the wrong direction and was difficult to descend from, especially with flippers on. However, once we reached the coral reef near Tobias Island, I managed to jump into the sea successfully. Once in, I was floating face down in placid turquoise seas so crystal clear you could see the sandy bottom many feet down. This time I fixed my mask firmly to my face, bit onto the snorkel pipe mouthpiece firmly, and started to adjust my breathing calmly to slow it down to a quiet steady beat beneath the water. Suddenly, I felt splashing near me and looking up, I saw Mohammed, the young boat captain there to assist me.
He gestured for me to hold his hand, and gripping it firmly, he took off, dragging me along with him leading the way Gliding across the surface of the sea, again I pictured the image of being dragged across the water like a harpooned whale. Soon I found myself directly above the coral, drifting quietly over the multi colored live reef.
Coral reefs are the largest natural structures in the world and are the result of a remarkable relationship between coral animals (known as polyps) and microscopic algae living in their tissues. The reefs are extremely fragile, providing space, shelter and food for thousands of plants and animals. It is a remarkable experience to drift over them, and again and again that day I encountered striped yellow and black, grey and purple, indigo and periwinkle fish, large and minute, swimming over, under and into the hidden dark holes of the beautiful coral beds.
I floated quietly for quite awhile. No problem, I thought, monitoring my breathing which was gentle and steady. Pretty soon, I decided to be a little bolder and wander away from the group to check out another coral reef further away. It was a short distance away, but I snorkeled to it quickly, assisted by the kicking power of my fins. There I floated quietly, held upon the surface of the quiet waters, the salt sea gently lapping over my bowed head, mask clear and snorkel pipe keeping my breath working beautifully. Finally, I decided to raise my head to spot the location of the boat, which by now was a distance away, and suddenly my mask began to fill with water. Once more, that dreaded feeling of inhaling a mouthful of salty sea water came over me-only because I had raised my head precipitously.
I came up spouting and coughing and agitating the water around me as I kicked with my fins to keep afloat. Looking over toward the boat's position, I could see someone plowing their way through the sea with powerful Australian crawl strokes. It was, who else but Mohammed. He thought I was in trouble. Before I knew it, he had reached me and with ease held me afloat to fix my mask. Then again, I found myself being dragged over the waves like a whale on a line. However, this time I appreciated the attention. Unwittingly, I had drifted quite a distance from the boat. So, turning onto my back, I kicked with my fins to help as he maneuvered me like a caught fish back to the boat. When I flopped up onto the deck, Mohammed explained that I looked very tired in the water and he thought I might be in trouble without help.
Our second day of snorkeling in the Red Sea had ended. I had succeeded in observing more beautiful ragged pink and gray coral reefs and many colorful creatures of the sea. Most important, I had begun to feel more comfortable with each breath I took as I peered into the incredibly beautiful life beneath the surface of the Red Sea.
As the day ended, our little gang gathered for drinks. This was the best there was, we agreed. But we didn't fully realize that the best was yet to come.
