Let me tell you a bit about a land far far away, in the western reaches of the tropical Pacific, closer to Papua New Guinea than to any other landmass. It’s an equatorial archipelago nation comprised of over 1000 islands. The smaller islands are postcard perfect tropical islets, populated by groves of coconut palms and fringed by impossibly white sandy beaches and/or mangroves, and dotted with occasional small villages. The larger islands are mountainous (volcanic in origin) — with dense, green slopes levelling out into wide, rolling, cultivated patches of land, crisscrossed by rivers running away from the mountains to the sea, and by rudimentary roads.

Originally thought to have been settled by migrant southeast Asians about 5,000 years ago, there is now some evidence that humans were existing in the islands as much as 25,000 years before that. After being ‘discovered’ by the Spanish in 1568, most of the islands were eventually claimed as colonies of Britain and Germany by the late part of the 19th century. Over the 19th century, missionaries also managed to successfully convert most of the population to Christianity, which is still the dominant religion in the islands. A few of them infamously met with violent endings when they were murdered by locals who resisted these intruders and their agenda.

If you are a student of World War II history, you’ll probably know the name Guadalcanal. It was an infamous battleground in the Allies’ do or die war with the Japanese, who occupied a long chain of Pacific Islands in their insatiable (and often inhumane) quest for resource gathering and establishment of strategic war bases. Guadalcanal is one of six major islands that make up the Solomon Islands, and it was the site of one of some of the bloodiest and hard fought ground battles of the war in the Pacific. Honiara, the capital and location of the international airport, is located on this island.

Like in so many island nations, the flat lands closer to the sea are patchwork quilts of small farms and big grow ops — most of which are coconut, palm oil and cacao groves in the case of the Solomons. There are gashes in the sides of mountains and in river basins that mark where men and machines have scoured off the jungle and then butchered the ground below it, in their quests for precious metals and minerals. We were told by a cultural guide that this kind of industry is most often being undertaken by offshore interests, with little to no benefit to the local peoples, nor with any apparent concern for the consequences of their huge excavations to the downstream communities.

I’d known about the Solomon Islands for a long time — several dive buds had been there on their travels, and had great things to say about them, but they always seemed too fricking hard to get to, and so we had gone other places instead. That hard-to-get-to reputation/situation has protected the islands from over-tourism, at least so far. Add to that years of civil and political unrest after their declaration of independence from Britain in 1978, and the Solomon Islands were not an easy nor highly desirable (to us general avoiders of areas of conflict) place to travel.

We finally got there in September 2025 — and it really wasn’t that difficult from Vancouver. Fiji Airways runs two non-stops YVR to Nadi per week (Tuesday & Saturday at time of writing). The only bummer is that a schedule change after booking meant that if we wanted the non-stop (versus transiting through SFO or LAX – yikes!), then we had to kill a few days in Fiji on the way there. Oh darn ;^)

We spent the two extra nights recovering from the long haul at a beachy Fijian hotel about 90 minutes drive south of Nadi, and then we spent a night at the Gateway Hotel to be near the airport for the morning flight out to Solomons; it’s not at all fancy but it’s got (pretty basic) bar & food, and a big pool area, and it’s right across the road from Nadi International.

Solomon Airlines (the national airline of the Solomon Islands) runs two flights a week between Nadi and Honiara. You can also get there via Brisbane, on Solomon Airways and JetBlue — also only a couple of flights per week. And I think that’s pretty much it.

Our trusty group travel agent Kirsten Treais of Amazing Adventures booked us into The Heritage Hotel in Honiara for our one night stay before we got on the Bilikiki live aboard boat. It’s located within the city, on the waterfront (in a pretty quiet marine area) and it was a good place to meet up with the gang. The hotel has food & beverage and a nice spa on site, and there’s a Japanese restaurant one way and a great American-style coffeehouse the other way, both just outside the hotel boundaries.

Honestly, Honiara is not all that. Some of us had a guided driving tour through town on our way to see some World War II memorials and battle sites. More about that excursion at the end of this report.

Getting on the boat was easy from The Heritage Hotel. We were met by the crew in the lobby at the appointed hour, then our stuff was transported by van while we took the short walk over to where the tenders (aka tinnies) were waiting to ferry us out to the Bilikiki, which was moored nearby.

I’ll state right up front that the Bilikiki is not a fancy vessel, but it felt entirely seaworthy (having a steel hull), and it is pretty perfectly set up for divers.

The most outstanding feature of the Bilkiki was the crew — thanks to the great leadership of Pato, a Spaniard, and her partner Fernando, originally from Brazil, our trip ran super smoothly. They’ve been on the Bilikiki for many years, and so are very knowledgeable about the many dive sites on offer, as well as local customs.

I have to give a shout out to Pato, who conducted the most comprehensive safety briefing that we have yet experienced. The Bilikiki clearly takes safety very seriously — our briefing was conducted first thing on the trip, and in addition to very clear communication about equipment and procedures, we all had the opportunity to practice using the secondary exit from the cabins in the belly of the boat — a vertical metal ladder up through a hatch out onto the foredeck. Muscle memory is important. We also appreciated the removable waterproof flashlights, fastened to the walls along the lower main corridor, outside the guest cabins. This is a great safety feature that all live aboard boats should have.

There is a good-sized camera room with ample power supply for charging batteries and personal devices (can we all just say no to any kind of charging in passenger cabins? — there are way too many live aboard fires happening worldwide, and it doesn’t seem a big reach to blame at least some of them on battery fires). 

The Bilikiki is 125 feet long. She has 10 air conditioned passenger cabins, all of which are pretty basic, and all below decks. They are ensuite with sink, toilet and shower. Unfortunately there is no loo on the main lounge/dining/dive deck, so it’s a bit of a scoot down to the cabins for a potty break. The air conditioned lounge has indoor dining tables if inclement weather, plus there’s a large, covered, open air dining area. All of our meals were served buffet-style, and the food was varied and good. Up top there’s a generous sun deck with comfy loungers.

The dive deck is spacious, and logically laid out, with benches and storage bins below each diver’s spot, and an area to gather near the white board for dive briefings. The ship has two dive tenders (the aforementioned “tinnies”) for transporting divers between the mother ship and the dive sites.

We dove here, there, and everywhere — too many dive sites to list individually. A couple of them we dove twice, which took the agony out of deciding which lens to screw on before the dive. I personally did 30 dives in the 9 diving day trip, and there were more on offer that I sat out (the night dives). All of the gang (except one newer diver) dove Nitrox, which was consistently delivered at 32%, and the Bilikiki wisely includes it in their trip price at no added cost. Nitrox (air enriched with extra oxygen) is pretty much essential on these multiple dives per day, over multiple days of diving, trips.

The conditions were generally pretty mellow on this adventure — except for one washing machine gong show of a dive mid-trip. Otherwise, there was minimal current, and lots of great diving with no need to go deep. It was heartwarming to see so many healthy coral gardens, and in some areas, they thrived right up to the surface.

Below are galleries of photos from our time diving in the Solomon Islands. You can click on any image to see a full screen version. All underwater images were shot with an Oly OMD E-M5II, housed in a Nauticam box, with Inon strobes. Most land shots were taken with an iPhone.

One of the things our group loved was that we were not put into set groups for the duration. Before each dive, divers would peg their name below one of the three tender trips to the dive sites. So happily, we were able to dive with all of the buds on this trip. Each group was accompanied by a dive guide, but there was no pressure to stay with them. As very experienced divers, we appreciated the opportunity to explore at our own pace and to surface when we were ready to end our dive.

Dive times were generous whenever possible, and on two glorious days, the stern dive deck was open for use on the main vessel, when the boat was tethered stern & bow in fairly shallow water, and we were permitted to go for as long as we liked. Happily I was able to bag several (not deep and current-less) 2 hour plus dives. My idea of heaven…

The reefs were generally in good shape, and were inhabited by a wonderful diversity of critters. There is very little diver pressure in the Solomons in the more remote locations (given that the Bilikiki is currently the only boat diving most of them). However, a few of the coral reefs that we dove were looking very battered, and in a couple of areas there was significant coral die off and algae infestation — we were told that this was due to storm damage. We saw only minimal instances of bleaching on this trip (including the white anemone behind the red spinecheek anemonefish, pictured just above).

The Solomons have some gorgeous underwater topography for diving: in addition to fringing coral reefs, we dove some walls, seamounts, several World War II wrecks (that over the years have evolved into lush artificial reefs), and we dove two sites that were absolutely spectacular — one was a slot canyon, and the other was a series of caverns and swim throughs — both made even more special when god rays lit the vertiginous walls and danced prettily on the sandy floors. 

The Bilikiki offered several village visits on our itinerary. One was to a village well known for intricate wood carving, and several in our group bought beautiful pieces to bring home with them. Having zero extra space in our baggage, Mr G and I gave the shopping excursions a miss, but we enjoyed going ashore to tour a small remote island village and to meet some of the locals there. It is a very modest life that they lead — most either sustenance fish and/or are involved in coconut growing and harvesting. Basic health care (but sadly, not education) is provided for all Solomon Islanders by the government, but for these people living remotely to large population centres, any ailments are likely to be treated by an occasional visiting nurse. Serious medical issues must be evacuated by boat to Honiara, where the central hospital is located. A couple of doctors in our group visited this facility, and said that the conditions were difficult for patients there, offering only rudimentary care (for example, cancer treatment is not available). This one hospital services the entire sprawling population of the Solomon’s, which is about 800,000.

The villages provide free basic education for young children, but anyone above age 12 must leave the island to live at a residential school, and this costs money that most islanders do not have. As a result, many rural Solomon Islanders struggle to afford their lives, and there is not much future hope for them to lift themselves out of poverty. 

There are many regional languages/dialects spoken in the Solomon Islands, with the common language being Pidgin English. If you really listen, you can pick up some familiar sounding words.

The end of the Bilikiki portion of the trip was quite seamless. We were offered two morning WW II wreck dives, just off the beach at Guadalcanal and not far from Honiara. Then we rinsed and dried the gear, and had the rest of the day to relax and relive the many awesome moments of the trip. That evening the whole crew assembled and thanked us for coming. And we as a group sincerely thanked them for the great adventure that they provided for us.

Thanks to a return flight schedule change, some of us had an extra day to hang out in Honiara after getting off the boat. We decided to do a WW II relics & memorial tour (that got good reviews online) — we had done something similar in Palau (Peleliu), and it had been interesting, and sobering, to see some of the infamous battle and hideout locations. This 5 hour tour took us through Honiara, up to an informative and impeccably kept US Memorial on the top of a hill not far from the town, and then to the very minimalist (and sadly unkempt) Japanese memorial not far from it. From there we were driven to visit Bloody Ridge, where a horrific two day battle happened between Allied (mostly American) and Japanese ground forces in September 1942, and which resulted in many casualties. After that we were taken to see some (now deeply decayed) bits of planes, amphibious personnel carriers, and other war detritus that is strewn around various collection sites. We also visited a US memorial garden, with rows of planted trees and dedication plaques below them. It’s a nice, leafy oasis, right next to the airport.

It was a decent historical tour, and a good way to see some of the island, but most interesting to me was when we chatted with the young Solomon Island guides who took us around, and learned more about the islands: politics and governance, and the perception of foreign interests (including China, who recently funded a huge sports stadium, amongst other “gifts”, and who are angling to establish a Chinese military base on the island). We were interested to learn about how and where the guides had grown up — they are from an island that continues with its annual dolphin hunt, despite international pressure to stop. We politely asked questions about the practice, including why. It is a longtime, important cultural tradition for their people, but truly, it made me very sad, as I thought about the pods of dolphins that we had loved watching as they playfully surfed the Bilikiki’s bow wave while it cleaved through the crystal blue ocean, transporting us to far away underwater edens in the Solomon Islands archipelago.

How do I describe the indescribable? Kenya is physically vast and diverse — arid, lush, flat, mountainous, populous (Nairobi), unpeopled (Meru National Park), mystical (the indigenous Samburu), and at times bizarre (the animals). It’s both serene (the landscape), and cacaphonic (the birds). No matter where you go, it is a highly sensory experience. 

And wild Kenya is a feeling — even harder to define — awe, a deep immersion into the natural world, the heartfeels of connection.

Like many things in life, adventures like this are best shared with friends, and to that end, the trip was planned and a gang was formed. The idea was to put together a group of 12 – which would create two groups for the usual 6 seater safari vehicles, and provide some economies with the chartered 12 seater intra-Kenya bush flights. Everyone in the group knew some of the others before the trip, and over the span of our adventure together we all became friends for life. 

In the end, one couple sadly had to drop out very late in the day, and so we numbered 10, and all had a bit more room to boom (and a welcome bit of extra luggage allowance on the bush flights too). Note to self: having cancellation insurance for a big trip like this is probably a good idea. Our group was two women, who both swiped right in the roommate search (a single supplement is very spendy in Africa), and the rest of us were traveling as couples. Right from the meet and greet dinner in Nairobi we knew that there was great chemistry. If you’ve ever been on a trip where there is a negative nelly, or a prince/esse, or someone who doesn’t play nice in the sandbox, you can appreciate how important it is to travel on a trip like this with people that you enjoy. There’s a saying in the dive world – on every dive boat, there’s an arsehole, and if you can’t figure out who it is, it’s probably you bud ;^). But on this trip, no arseholes were evident, other than of the animal kind (I’m looking at you elephants, baboons, warthogs et al).

There were some clear criteria established for this trip — firstly, that we stay within Kenya, and that the connections between the camps be land (game) drives and/or bush flights, so that we could avoid the stress of transiting through a major hub, and in doing so, being yanked out of the wilderness experience. A few of us had been to Africa on a previous trip in 2018 — which was effectively a sampler, on which we visited three different countries (Zimbabwe, Botswana & South Africa), all in 11 days. Much as we loved it all, we did spend a lot of time in transit, and we had to return to Johannesburg and overnight twice there near the airport in order to make the connections to other areas. So this trip was imagined to avoid that kind of busy-ness. Secondly, the wish was that the experiences be diverse – to explore different parts of Kenya, with different landscapes, cultures, and different concentrations of animals. Thirdly, that we stay in small, eco conscious camps – not posh, but very comfortable, with great game viewing, and not too many other operations in the same area (it’s very disheartening to see a big fleet of four wheelers racing to converge on and then surround a wild animal). Finally, we were looking for camps that had a significant social enterprise component in their business model — that is, that they hire from the local communities in which they operate, and that they also use some of the revenues from their camps to significantly help to support education, health care and conservation in those areas. 

We trusted Kirsten Treais of Amazing Adventures, a US based dive and Africa specialist, to tick these boxes and put together an itinerary for us. She hit it out of the park in helping us to select the three camps that we visited. In turn, she engaged Cheli & Peacock in Kenya, who took fantastic care of handling us on the ground while we were there. There were a lot of dots to connect with us all dribbling in and leaving Kenya at different times, most with various add ons in Nairobi and beyond, and it all went seamlessly.

I’m going to share some photos from our time in Kenya in this trip report — gawd knows, despite my best intentions to not have my head in the camera too much, I could not help myself, and I took many. I’ll also write a bit about each location where we stayed, in the hopes of sharing some useful and/or interesting information, and perhaps inspiring others to try to make a similar trek to Africa. It is the trip of a lifetime.

Nairobi

We found that Air France had the most efficient routing and best fares between Vancouver and Nairobi for us, with a snappy connection in Paris. Due to the vagaries of internet algorithms (damn you technology!), apparently Air France knew I was zeroing in on the best dates for us, and the maudit bâtards then jacked up the prices for these dates when I went in to close the deal. Grrrrrr. Rather than pay their usurious upcharge for the ideal dates, we decided to go two days earlier to get a much better fare, and so we had a couple of extra nights in Nairobi before we flew out to the first camp, and we also decided to add an additional night there on the back end. For two of those nights at the beginning, and for the one night at the end, a few of us stayed at the wonderful Karen Gables B&B, which is located in a quiet suburb of the city. The experience was great – a beautiful vintage-style house with a small number of comfortable ensuite guest rooms, and with ample common areas both indoors and outdoors for lounging and relaxing. A delicious breakfast was included, and the kitchen also produces a fantastic dinner (à la carte). An outdoor pool, peaceful and expansive gardens — this place is a gem, and I’d highly recommend it if you like small inns.

A note regarding the images in this trip report – you can click on any image to see a larger version.

Unfortunately, Karen Gables was fully booked for our third night in Nairobi, and so we moved to Hemingways Hotel, which is also located in the suburb of Karen, very nearby. This is the place to go if you like a posh, grand, colonial-style hotel with impeccable service and rooms so large that you can get lost in them. It too has lovely gardens, a nice pool area, and both indoor and outdoor bar and restaurant options. We enjoyed a massage at their spa, and had a fun group dinner on the terrace where we all got to know each other. The (included) breakfast was also very good. 

While we were in Nairobi, Karen Gables arranged for a driver to take us to the Giraffe Centre, where visitors are educated about the 3 kinds of giraffes that are found in Kenya (Reticulated, Maasai, and the Rothschild variety — which has been given an endangered status). It’s up close and personal; you stand on an elevated walkway and the friendly Rothschild giraffes mosey in to mooch the food pellets that are provided for hand feeding them. It was a cool experience, but the interactions with wild giraffes that we experienced at our second camp, Sarara, truthfully totally eclipsed it…

We also went to Kazuri, a bead making co-operative, where female artisans hand-make beads from Kenyan clay. The stuff that they create is quite unique and beautiful, and the on-site shop offers a very nice array of their beaded products. 

The driver then dropped us at another local multi-room artisan marketplace for a bit more retail therapy. We found Kenyan crafts to be very beautiful and reasonably priced, but in the fugue of jet lag we didn’t have much stamina for shopping.

It was a short and sweet stay in the outskirts of Nairobi.

Click here for Part 2 – Meru National Park — Elewana’s Elsa’s Kopje Camp

Our flight out to Meru National Park was from Wilson Airport, from which most small domestic flights depart in Nairobi. The plane was a single engine, 12 seater Cessna Grand Caravan, and quite comfortable for the ~45 minute flight to the bumpy, unpaved airstrip in the middle of nowheresville on which we landed.

From there, we were met by two safari vehicles & drivers from Elsa’s Kopje, who offered us a cool towel and a cold drink, and then loaded up us and our stuff, and set out on what was to be a pretty awesome first Kenyan game drive between the air strip and the camp. Most of the folks on our trip had not been to Africa before, and it truly was a joy to see it through their eyes. Within five minutes they had seen several towering nearby giraffes, a parade of elephants, and a big raft of some stinky hippos lolling and farting in a muddy pond, with an crocodile perched malevolently on the bank just behind them. Oohs and ahs and many iPhone photo clicks ensued.

Elsa’s Kopje is the only permanent camp located within the 870 square kilometre (almost a quarter of a million acres) Meru National Park. As such, there is little to no competition with other vehicles when viewing the abundant wildlife in the area. The overall feel is super remote. 

The camp itself is beautifully built on a stony peaked hill (kopje) that juts up out of the scrubby plain, and so is effectively a homing beacon that can be seen from almost anywhere in the park. 

This area was made famous by Joy & George Adamson — they of the book and movie Born Free — which told the story of the couple who came to the area with a vision of working towards conservation of the animals, and who ended up raising orphaned Elsa the lion cub into adulthood, and then successfully releasing her back into the wild. The Adamsons separately came to tragic endings in Africa. Google is your friend ;^)

Elsa’s Kopje camp is currently under the management of Grace, a capable and articulate leader. Every person on the staff was ever helpful. Like at most camps in Africa (I think), they insist that guests be chaperoned to and from their cottages/tents during the dark hours. Hearing lions roaring in the night, the yelping of hyenas, barking of baboons and trumpeting of elephants makes it easy to understand why.

The camp has 6 cabins nestled on the rock, most cantilevered out, giving awesome views of the expansive plain below and then the mountains beyond, and as well there are a few multi-room family units, accessible across a white knuckling rope and board suspension bridge. Our cottage (#4) had a live tree growing right through it, and the feeling was very much that we were staying in a treehouse. The reception lodge has a gathering area, a small boutique, and management offices. The separate main lodge has a comfortable living area, large dining area, and bar, and looks out over a small lawn (where they set up tables to dine under the stars at night), with an infinity pool beyond. The whole place is charming, and rustically luxurious. It’s also an ‘eco resort’, providing power and hot water via solar arrays.

In our four days at Elsa’s we explored huge areas of the park, on the dusty and at times bumpy roads (aka Kenyan massage) that crisscross the mostly flat terrain, and travel across quite a few streams and small rivers as well.

We saw a lot of animals — elephants, lions, giraffes, cape buffalo, rhinos (in a special section of the park that has been fenced off to keep them in that area to try to inhibit poaching), lions, assorted African antelopes, hippos, baboons, zebras, and many varieties of birds.

There was a strong ranger presence in the park – we saw their vehicles every day, and it is they who are so important in further preventing the rampant poaching that has decimated many of the wild animal populations in Africa. Apparently it was so bad in the 80’s (Asian lust for rhino horns) that what had previously been an abundant population of these weird critters in the area (something like 10,000 of them!) had been pretty much eradicated, and so the edict became ‘shoot to kill’ any poachers on sight!

Our safari drivers/naturalist guides were Mohammed (Mo) and Joel. Both were wonderfully knowledgeable and clearly knew the park like the back of their hands.

The usual routine was up at dark o’thirty for coffee (delivered to your cottage if preferred), then on the road by 6.30 a.m. We’d stop somewhere for a bush breakfast around 9.30 (coffee, tea, hard boiled or scotch eggs, baked goods, fruit, yogurt). We’d usually be back at the lodge by around 11.30, yummy lunch around 1 pm, siesta, and then out again on safari at 4.30. We’d stop somewhere scenic for sundowner cocktails & snacks on the afternoon drive, just before sunset, and then rip back to the camp on inky corduroy roads in time for a quick shower, beverages, and then a delicious dinner under a blanket of stars. On our last day, we were surprised by a full on sit down hot breakfast out in the bush, set up beside a pretty river. Mimosas! A girl could get used to this ;^). We had very memorable sundowners that afternoon right  in the vehicle, as we stopped beside a half dozen lolling lions who clearly had full bellies and were flaked out for the duration. They were just lions just lyin’ around ;^)

Other observations: they have a nice gift shop in the reception area, and we found the prices and selection were good. The camp is quite spread out, and so the cottages are very private, however, the route from the rooms beyond the reception area to the main lodge (dining area, bar etc) is quite distant, and the camp does have quite a few stairs, so perhaps not ideal for those with significant mobility challenges. We also really enjoyed the spa, which is in a dedicated small building just below the main lodge. Judy was a kind and talented massage therapist, and some muscle release was just the thing after being bounced around in a safari vehicle. The open wall looking out over the plain below made for best view ever from a massage table.

On our final morning at Meru, we were driven to a different airfield than the one we had arrived at, and for some reason they sent two smaller planes for us, and so the group divvied itself up and we flew on an approximately 45 minute flight to the remote Nemanyak area in mid-northern Kenya, where the lovely and inspiring Sarara Camp is located.

Load ’em up…

Click here for Part 3 – Nemunyak Community Conservanacy — Sarara Lodge

Once again my words and photos really can’t do this experience justice. 

Sarara Camp is located in a wide valley, with epic views from its rocky perch on the flank of a precipitous mountain, all the way across to the scenic Mathews range rising out of the plain on the far side. The land and rocky formations are mostly reddish — and that red oxide tinged soil is important in the rites and rituals of the local tribe — the Samburu. Trees, bushes, grasslands and sandy river flats make up the terrain in the wide valley, which is cut through with rutty, dusty roads. Animals — both domestic and wild, roam freely (there are no fences anywhere), and they all somehow, for the most part, peacefully co-exist.

Sarara Camp, as well as Sarara Treehouses, Reteti House and Sarara Wilderness mobile camp, are all under the fine leadership of Jeremy Bastard (a bit of an unfortunate name – he sure seems like a super nice guy ;^) and his partner Katie Rowe. Jeremy, a fourth generation Kenyan, spent a lot of time in the area as a child, with his family, and they forged deep bonds with the Samburu. 

In 1995, a vision was realized by Samburu elders in creating the 850,000 acre Nemunyak Community Conservancy — as a way of trying to halt the decimation of many wild species in the area due to over-hunting and rampant poaching. The hope was to create an environment that would support the repopulation of these threatened species over time. Out of that, an eco tourism partnership between the Samburu and the Bastard family evolved, and Sarara Camp was built, in 1997. 

Sarara Camp, the newer camps named above, the Sarara Foundation, and the Reteti Elephant Sanctuary have all been created as part of an inspirational and sustainable model of social enterprise. Katie & Jeremy explained that it all belongs to the Samburu, and that they manage the lodges for them. 60% of the revenues from the camps is returned directly to the Samburu community through education, health care, conservation protection, and other aid. The remainder is spent on camp staff salaries, provisions, upkeep etc.

The non-profit Reteti Elephant Sanctuary, which directly employs 120 Samburu, also provides empowering income to 1200+ Samburu women who work to supply the large volume of goat’s milk that is needed to feed the young animal orphans. The camps themselves are also key employers in the area, paying wages and providing health benefits for their employees, who in turn, each help to financially support the villages from which they came. 

Sarara Camp has 6 two person cabin tents, and one two bedroom family unit. The tents are lovely and very specious – with thatched roofs constructed over them, huge mesh windows looking out over the gorgeous view, and they are all privately situated. They have both indoor and outdoor sink & toilet facilities, a private deck, and an outdoor shower. Nothing like being in the altogether in the shower and having a wild giraffe pop his or her head over the rim to say howdy ;^)

The cabin tents are spread out along the ridge in two layers, with the furthest being a couple of minutes walk away over an up & down sandy path from the main lodge, on which giraffes occasionally stood sentry during out stay, and on one memorable night, a family of elephants came right into the camp to visit.

The main lodge is a lovely building, with a thatched roof covering a comfy and spacious seating area, and with the bar just a short stagger away. Then it’s up a few steps to the dining area. Zazous (hornbill birds) swoop through the open air building, giraffes ramble along the sandy paths right outside, naughty vervet monkeys squabble and chase each other through adjacent trees.

From the deck, or the beanbag chairs on the rocks below, you can sit and lazily watch the animals coming to the watering hole below, which is fed by a natural spring, around which the lodge was planned. Elephants, giraffes, warthogs, baboons, zebras, assorted exotic birds — no need to head out on a bumpy game drive, just sit ye down right there and watch the parade. 

There is also a very beautiful infinity edged pool below the living area deck – the sloping bottom is of naturally occurring site rock, and so basically the pool has been created by damming the natural spring over the stone bottom, and then the spring flows through it to the watering holes below. 

In addition to the aforementioned Mr Toad’s wild ride game drives, Sarara offers walking safaris with their naturalist guides. They also offer horseback safari for experienced riders (at extra cost). Mr G and I did all three, and greatly enjoyed them all. Daniel was a great guide – very knowledgeable about fauna and flora in the area, and he shared a wealth of knowledge about Samburu lore and folk medicine. And GPS was always along too — he’s the dude wearing the fatigues and carrying the bigass gun. He’s an interesting story — previously he was a deadly accurate (spear) hunter who was responsible for the death of many animals in the valley, prior to the Conservancy being formed. In a beautiful pivot, he is now employed to protect people, and animals.

Our late afternoon ride with Katie Rowe and two of her Samburu guides was lovely. The horses are beautifully cared for and seem to thrive there — well, except the one that she told us got taken by a lion! =8^O. I will admit it was a bit surreal to be riding through the bush, with a couple of Samburu dudes along for the adventure, never knowing what wild critter might be just around the corner. In the same area, on vehicle game drives, we had seen a huge journey of reticulated giraffes (we lost count at 40!), elephants, zebras. ostriches, warthogs, and a flock of ever-confused birds-of-little-brain Vulturine guineafowl. Daniel had said he had seen a leopard in a tree in the area just days before…

Sarara isn’t really about traditional African safari go-till-you-drop game drives. Instead it is more of a place for total relaxation and immersion, in a remote, unspoiled valley, with an aboriginally led land conservancy and a captivating culture to learn about  – the Samburu. 

In-room massage is available (they don’t have a dedicated spa space), and there is a boutique on site that offers beautiful things made by local artisans. 

An opportunity was offered to watch the local blacksmiths forging metal pieces, and everyone who attended had a custom bracelet made for them. 

All in all, the food, the hospitality and the excursions were outstanding at Sarara.

Samburu Land

The Samburu people and their culture are fascinating — in many ways they seem anachronistic — a civilization that time has forgotten — which is quite astonishing in the hyper-digital 21st century. This is in part due to the nomadic pastoralist nature of their existence, which means most move their animals and their rudimentary villages as needed to better grazing grounds. Only the mountain dwelling bee keeping Samburu remain in static villages. I believe it is also partly due to the remoteness of this area of Kenya, far from the big cities, and the Samburu’s very strong pride in their heritage that has allowed them to continue in their traditional ways.

During our four days at Sarara, the staff of Sarara Camp, who are almost all Samburu, welcomed us like family, and openly shared many stories and insights into their culture. Robert, the camp manager, or Michael & Ann, assistant managers, would often join us for meals, and would regale us with fascinating stories about the Samburu.

The Samburu people are fiercely proud, dress in wildly colourful clothing, and are beautifully adorned with stunning beadwork. Eligible young Samburu men wear cock-a-doodle head dresses to attract the ladies. Most everyone wears some sort of wrap skirt/shuka with little to no covering above the waist, although brightly coloured plaid blankets worn as wrap around shawls are also common apparel, especially for the elders. And did I mention the beads? The beads are not just for decoration – they also signal all sorts of social cues – betrothed, married, how many wives (the Samburu men are polygamous), whether a teenaged boy has been circumcised, how many sons a mother has, etc, etc.

The Samburu people, who are believed to be a breakout sect of the Maasai (their much better known cousins), and who claim to be a “lost tribe of Israel”, have populated this large area for what is thought to be 6 or 7 centuries. So far only small (but no doubt ultimately significant) changes to their culture have seemed to have occurred over the centuries. ‘Chinese gazelles’ (low cc, inexpensive dirt bikes) and mobile phones have finally arrived, as of the last five years or so. The times, they are no doubt now a-changing, even in Samburu land, but a very strong sense of community, values, and one’s place in the world will hopefully help them to stay the course, at least for the most part.

Theirs is an oral tradition – this is how their history, medicines, rituals etc have been traditionally communicated. 

I had never heard of the Samburu before our trip, although I feel sure that at one time or another there must have been a feature in National Geographic about them. The only accurate book written about them is Samburu, by Nigel Pavitt. He spent many years in the area, and in doing so, earned the trust of the Samburu, and with their agreement, he documented some of their people and their rituals. We were explicitly asked to not photograph Samburu people, nor their domestic animals, as it is their belief that photographs steal the soul. Any photos of Samburu that appear in this photo essay are of employees of Sarara Camp and Reteti Elephant Sanctuary, who do permit their photos to be taken. We bought a copy of Pavitt’s book at the camp for its beautiful photographs, but immersing myself in his detailed explanations of complex rituals and social nuances has allowed me to learn much more about what we saw and experienced.

We heard many stories and explanations of Samburu culture — too many to share here — but I know that we all left with sincere admiration for their incredibly strong sense of community, respect for their elders, connection with the natural world, and apparent lack of desire for most modern conveniences. But truthfully, we were also challenged by some of their more archaic beliefs — particularly the patriarchal practices of arranged marriages (where the women have no say in who they will wed; the weddings are typically transactional, and the brides are typically very young and are often wed to much older men), polygamy (men can have numerous wives), the circumcision rituals around both teenaged males and females, and the usual practice of not sending kids to school — instead, most are tasked, starting at a very young age, with tending the family’s herds of cattle, sheep, goats, donkeys and camels. Animals are currency to the Samburu. Young boys are routinely sent out into the bush to fend for themselves for long periods of time, far from their villages. Girls stay closer to home and tend the goats and sheep. ’Naughty’ boys and girls are those that are not overly attentive to the animals, losing some to predators etc, and their punishment is being sent to school!

Picture this in your mind: On the day we arrived, we were told that there was to be a traditional Samburu wedding in a nearby village, and that we were most definitely invited to attend. A wedding was apparently not usual for the dry time of year when we visited; typically most weddings occur during the wet season. It was decided that our group should offer the bride and groom a gift, and a live goat was suggested as being the appropriate thing. Alrighty then. 

We all piled into two vehicles and drove the adventurous route to the village, which included fording rocky streams and avoiding herds of cattle and goats being shepherded along by young boys and girls on what can only generously be called roads. As we pulled into the outskirts of a traditional village on a hot and beautiful late afternoon, things were definitely already underway. We found out later that Samburu wedding rituals and celebrations last for three days! 

A clan of buff bare-chested young men — warriors — who were all beautifully decorated with colourful skirt wraps (shukas) and ornately beaded bracelets, anklets, necklaces and headgear, were gathered on the dusty flats outside the modest village circle beyond. Many of these guys wore ornate long braids down their backs, coloured red with the iron oxide mud made from the soil, faces painted, carrying long spears, with daggers and clubs tucked into their beaded belts. And then they pronked. Usually two at a time would pair off, and begin leaping vertically into the air, higher than you would think possible from a standing position, and seeming to not use their knees for propulsion, only their ankles. It was clearly a full on show off, but not for us, for themselves, and for the young ladies gathered on the sidelines nearby. Guttural chanting was the soundtrack. It was truly a scene — a spectacle that none of us will ever forget. 

And then, one of the young men appeared to have an epileptic fit, and then another, and then a third. Totally rigid, limbs quaking, wild eyes. They were each picked up like a plank by a few of their friends, and carried off to the side to recover in the shade. We were all aghast — was this epilepsy? Or heat stroke? (which would have been totally understandable given how hot it was, and how much energy they were exerting — and that there was no apparent hydration happening). But no, our Samburu guides Daniel and Pius assured us, this is normal — these young men are overcome with emotion. One explanation was that it was possible that these boys might have been romantically involved with the young bride, or were her brothers, and were devastated that she was being married off and would leave their village to live with her husband’s family (including his other wives).

The young ladies watched covertly as the sea of testosterone roiled in front of them. These young ladies were similarly decked out — highly adorned, some with huge bead collars layered above their bare breasts, which they tipped back and forth as they bobbed to the rhythm. Eventually these young ladies joined the group of young men, and they paraded back and forth along the dirt road, chanting all the while. The show seemed to go on forever, and the stamina of the young men exerting so much energy leaping into the thick air on a scorching afternoon was awe-inspiring for us looky-lous who were wilting in the heat.

As for the bride? Honestly, she did not look happy. When we presented the goat (which was loudly complaining about being held by its ear) to the bride and groom, just outside the circle of the low, rounded roof, stick huts that made up the village, it wasn’t hard to understand why. He was very much older and a bit worse for wear; she might have been his third of fourth wife? His choosing her, in essence buying her with a dowry of cows, goats, and/or camels, meant that she would leave her mother, her siblings, her friends, her village, and go to live with him somewhere possibly quite distant. She would have most probably not have met the groom until their wedding. 

It is easy to look on all of this critically, but I feel it is important to be respectful of the traditional ways of the Samburu people. They certainly appear to have much pride in their own traditions, and the girls are brought up in this system, as were their mothers, and their grandmothers, for time immemorial. The burgeoning use of cell phones, that so easily offer a portal to the world beyond Nemunyak, will no doubt generate some significant changes within their close community. Slow change is already happening with the gentle empowerment of women through employment at the Sarara lodges and Reteti elephant sanctuary, and for the many women who are selling their goat’s milk to the sanctuary, and so for the first time, have their own income.

The Sarara Foundation also funds a mobile medical clinic that especially supports maternal and newborn health, and as well funds a mobile Montessori school. Being nomads spread out over a huge area, offering fixed clinics and schools for the Samburu would make them practically inaccessible for many.

Reteti Elephant Sanctuary

We were offered a morning excursion to visit the Reteti Elephant Sanctuary. This is another inspiring project, and was one of the highlights of our time at Sarara. The only completely community owned and staffed elephant sanctuary in Kenya, Reteti accepts lost or orphaned young animals from all over northern Kenya, and protects and nourishes them until they can be safely re-wilded. They have a great track record so far, and since opening in 2019, they have successfully released 23 elephants, 36 giraffes, 40+ Gerenuk and other African antelopes, and 6 Colobus monkeys and baboons.

Our guide, Naomi, a local Samburu (as are all of the employees) gave us the tour. After a very dark o’thirty start and a bumpy ride across the valley, we arrived at daybreak, just in time for the 6 am feeding. Numerous keepers appeared with big bottles of prepared goats milk, and then the young elephants moved in quickly to get their feed on. Like human babies, some of the little ones fed from a bottle held by the Samburu sanctuary staff. Others, a bit older, greedily grabbed the bottles out of their hands with their agile trunks and sucked them back with astonishing speed, tossing them in the dirt when they were done like a redneck’s just chugged beer can.

The elephants are fed every three hours, around the clock. It is an incredible commitment for the sanctuary to provide both the staff and the huge volume of goat’s milk to be able to do this, and it would not be possible without the Sarara Foundation, as well as much needed donations from individuals around the world. Please go to Reteti.org to learn more about the wonderful work that they are doing in Kenya, and how the sanctuary is benefitting not just the animals, but also the local Samburu community. You can help by making a donation, and you can even ‘adopt’ a baby elephant!

And it is not just elephants that are being saved at Reteti, there is also a population of young giraffes, some ostriches, some varieties of African antelopes, a few simians, and a tortoise or two. Our group were all given the chance to bottle feed a giraffe or an antelope while we were there.

As the animals mature, the keepers, with whom they clearly form attachments, accompany them out into the wild areas surrounding the sanctuary, and they help to teach them to browse, just as their mothers would have — which includes hand feeding them the plants that are safe and good for them to eat. When the elephants reach the age of 6-7, they are ready to be released back into the wild. The released animals are electronically tracked, and so that know that several of their elephants have managed to somehow reconnect with their matriarchal family groups — sometimes after traveling over huge distances. It is said that an elephant never forgets, and this for sure is a confirmation of that!

I already loved wild elephants before we visited the sanctuary, with their soulful eyes and comedic expressions, and their pure majesty as massive herbivores that gather in co-operative and protective communities. That adoration was forever cemented by being loved up by one of the young female elephants at the sanctuary — although we were asked not to touch the elephants, she definitely initiated gentle contact with quite a few of us. She laid her sinuous trunk like a blessing over my head and held me for a long time in a heartfelt elephant hug. Magical. We were asked not to share photos, as they don’t want people going there thinking that they are going to pet the elephants.

And then, just like that, Sarara was in the rearview mirror as we moved on to our last location, the Maasai Mara North Conservancy.

Click for Part 4 – Mara North Conservancy — Elewana’s Elephant Pepper Camp

It was a sad farewell to Sarara — all of us left there with full hearts and feeling very inspired by the amazing conservation and social enterprise model that the Samburu and the Sarara Foundation have created together. But we were also ready for some more full on African safari game drives, and our last camp, Elewana’s Elephant Pepper Camp, located in the North Conservancy of the Maasai Mara, did not disappoint.

Our bush flight from the rural airstrip near Sarara to the North Conservancy airstrip was a little over an hour. We flew over waterfalls, forests, towns, and a massive crater, plus acres of greenhouses — Kenya is the largest grower of roses in the world. As we descended we could see the rolling plains of the Mara, with a wide, meandering, muddy river, dotted with hippos, and the grassy landscape punctuated with flat-bottomed trees that are ubiquitous to the area. Who knew that they were shaped that way by giraffes, which browse all of the lower leaves and branches that they can reach (up to about 18 feet), leaving cartoonish, mushroom-shaped trees in their wake?

Another lovely meet and greet at the airport, a cool towel, a cold beverage, and then, another unexpectedly awesome (game) drive to the camp. We saw a regal male lion that had left its daytime siesta spot for a drink, hyenas, a jackal, hippos, wildebeest and elephants. A giraffe or two as well. Quite remarkable, and it boded well for the next four days.

The Mara North Conservancy is another social enterprise success story. Local Maasai land owners, who are mostly cattle farmers, decided to form a large conservancy, which leases a big expanse of land to the various safari camps in the area, and with the lease income flowing back to the Maasai. The camps in turn employ people from the local communities, and support education and health care in these areas as well. Elewana’s Land & Life Foundation is an integral part of this sustainable tourism model.

Elephant Pepper is an old-school style tent camp located right in the thick of the conservancy. The camp is set in a copse of trees, bordered all around by open grasslands. Wild elephants roam everywhere – snuffling around the tents at night, snacking near the veggie garden at lunchtime, moseying by in the distance. At night you could hear them munching very close by, and lions and hyenas were near too. The camp has night watchmen who patrol around the tents and gently encourage the animals to keep their distance. These are also the guys who escort guests to and from their tents in the dark hours, shining their flashlights side to side from the path, into the trees, looking for eyeballs!

We were greeted on arrival by Moses, Elephant Pepper Camp’s manager — he’s an energetic and enthusiastic Kenyan who clearly loves his work. Moses is a great host, and was always around, checking in regularly to make sure that his guests were happy. 

The camp has 10 tents, and I believe one tent has a couple of “rooms” in it, for families. The tents are sited in the trees, and so that they are quite cool and private. They all have a covered porch and a lovely view out over the grasslands, and are connected to the main lodge tent by pretty, sinuous paths.

The guest tents are really nicely set up — a very comfortable bed, a desk with charging station, a bench for duffel bags, cubbies and hangers for clothes, a small safe, and behind a canvas wall, his & hers antique-style sink stands, a shower, and a loo. It was unseasonably cool when we were in the Maasai Mara in January 2025 — with some pretty epic storms blowing through, but the tents held up (except for one that had a small unplanned water feature in it ;^). In the evening, while we were at dinner, they would come and pop hot water bottles in our beds to warm them up. Heavenly! I was very grateful that I had packed some warm layers to wear.

The tent zippers at the entry of the tents all meet at the bottom, in an inverted T, and we were instructed to use the carabiner they provided to fasten the three zippers together firmly – otherwise monkeys might break in and mess with your stuff! And we were warned not to leave any medications in plain view through the mesh windows, because those little monkeys are especially keen to pinch pharmaceuticals!

The main lodge is also a large, long tent, with a bar, dining area, and comfy lounge. There is a second, smaller dining tent that can be used for groups like ours. Lunch was served outdoors on the lawn one day, when the weather was nice, and there’s a big seating area there too, around a fire bowl. The food was all beautifully prepared and presented, and very delicious.

Like at Elsa’s Kopje, the morning safari required an early wake up. Coffee and light snacks in the main tent, and on the road by 6.30 am. This seems like an rough start time for a holiday, but early morning is when you are most likely to see the big cats still out, before they retire into the invisibility of their lairs under big bushy shrubs, where they go to get out of the heat of the day. Typically, a casual ‘bush breakfast’ would be offered around 9.30. On one morning, a delicious full sit down breakfast was offered on the bank of the hippo-infested river. Did I mention how a girl could get used to mid-morning mimosas while on safari?

James and Charles were our safari drivers and guides — both were very kind, capable and knowledgable. James is Samburu, and has guided in the area for 18 years. Charles is originally from Nairobi but felt the call of the wild and left there to become the accomplished guide and photographer that he is.

We saw multiple lions, and cheetahs, and on one exciting afternoon game drive, a sleek female leopard. I missed one morning game drive at Elephant Pepper, when others in the group saw a family of rare serval cats, as well as a pride of lions where mama had just killed a topi (a type of large antelope). They watched as she dragged it over a kilometre, fending off hyenas, to get it to an area where she could protect it. Her teenaged cubs were apparently no help at all, and just played around while she did all the heavy lifting. Kids these days!

As the name of the camp suggests, you would expect to see elephants at this location — and we did, every day, all day, often in large matriarchal family herds or in smaller all-male gangs — everything from huge male animals with massive tusks to a teeny tiny little cutie that was less than a year old.

But the Mara is not just about elephants. There were many photo ops at Elephant Pepper. Here are a few more pix to illustrate:

And then, it was over. Three camps, twelve days of safaris, umpteen animal sightings, an elephant hug, Samburu stories, bush flights, fantastic guides, fantastic food (at all 3 camps), scenic sundowners, bush breakfasts, beautiful and benevolent Kenyan hospitality. We were happy campers. 

It is heartwarming to see how much the Kenyans love their country, how proud they are of it, how they clearly understand the necessity and benefits of the conservation of huge areas, and the policies to prevent further poaching of wild game. The Kenyans that we met along the way were all so kind and welcoming, and were fantastic hosts.

Single-use plastics were wisely banned in the country about six years ago, and the lack of garbage littering both Nairobi and the more rural areas that we visited was notable.

It is said that Africa gets in your blood (hopefully not malaria, for which we all took prophylactic meds!) — what I mean by that is that you feel changed after experiencing wild Africa. The only equivalent I can compare it to is doing some fantastic diving in remote, unspoiled locations like Raja Ampat in Indonesia, or the Tubbataha atolls in the Philippines, or the stunningly beautiful reefs and bommies of the Va-tu-i-ra Passage in Fiji. Going on safari is like a land dive — immersive, meditative, and awe-inspiring.

I want to go back…

The End

Part 1 is here: Nairobi

Part 2 is here: Elsa’s Kopje in Meru National Park

Part 3 is here: Sarara Lodge in Nemunyak Community Conservancy

Nothing warms my heart more underwater than seeing an aggregation of fish while diving on a healthy reef. We saw swarms of schooling Trevally (Jacks) on several dives in Tubbataha. Like starling birds, they swirl and undulate and create momentary patterns, swimming with energy and a collective purpose to be at one with a pack of fish – safety in numbers from predators being the reason to be part of a gang.

Being shiny, silvery fish, that are constantly on the move, they can be a bit challenging to photograph, as light from the strobes can easily over-illuminate the Trevally closest to the camera. Shot with an 8 mm fisheye lens in a dome port, as were all of my wide angles on this trip.

Let me introduce you to the scariest (to me) fish in the sea.

This is a kind of fish that I have nicknamed Bucky (or Buckette – the sex of this fish is not easy to discern by its colouration) – a Titan Triggerfish. Bucky (& Buckette, when she is not nesting) are big, beautiful, and generally benign fish – they grow up to 30 inches in length, and are pretty beefy. Like parrotfish, Titan Triggerfish use their not inconsequential teeth to rip up chunks of coral and crunch spiny urchins as part of their diet.

In this photo, this (non-nesting) Titan Trigger is being groomed by that little black, white & blue striped cleaner wrasse on its side – these little fishes populate the reef and provide cleaning services for many of its denizens. The wrasses eat little parasites off the fishes/turtles/rays/eels/sharks’ etc bodies, and even do dental hygiene duty and clean inside their mouths! The fish being groomed somehow know not to eat them. It’s quite entertaining to camp out for a while near a cleaning station and watch the fish lining up for their turn to be detailed.

But back to Buckette – in her non-nesting state, she is a pretty chill fish. But once she is nesting, she becomes a terrorist. Titan Triggerfish excavate large, shallow pits in sandy areas on the bottom, where their eggs are laid and fertilized, and then it’s open season on any creatures daring to approach the nursery. Titan Triggers are hyper-vigilant, and will chase off any critters (including divers) that come into range. The problem is that they consider their zone of protection to be a large area, flaring out and up from the areas around their nests on the bottom, extending in a wide conical shape, all the way to the surface above – even when it’s 50 or more feet away! Flying overhead, you see them turn, eye you with their deranged eyeballs (which, unlike most fish, can move independently), and then they charge, swimming at hyper-speed as they come straight at you, mouths agape, ready to chomp. And it’s not just for show, they actually will and do bite divers.

On a past trip to Indonesia, Mr G took a hit from one of these big fish on his leg, behind his knee. He didn’t see it coming as we flew over a minefield of occupied nests on a crazy 6+ knot current dive that we were in the process of aborting. We were bailing on the dive because we were concerned that we would be blown a long distance from the boat, in a very remote part of the world. This is how divers get lost at sea.

Anyhoo, the fish grabbed Dave from behind, on the tendon on the back of his knee, and shook his leg ferociously. At first Dave thought it might be a small shark that got him (even though it would be highly unusual for a shark to attack a diver), but turning to wrest the assailant off, he saw that it was one of these maniacal fish. He punched it and the fish let go, leaving him with a couple of puncture wounds (it bit him right through his wetsuit!) and a big bruise. Some of our dive buds are docs and they made sure the wound was cleaned up properly to avoid infection. Another diver on the same trip took a hit to her head!

And on that same crazy current dive, I had one come after me too, and I’m pretty sure I screamed like a 6 year old as I fended it off by turning on my back and whacking at it with my fins. I had a big steel muck stick in my hand too, and if it persisted I wasn’t opposed to shish kebabbing it down the gullet to make it quit. Fortunately it didn’t come down to murder, but if it was me or the fish, I wasn’t going to lose.

Early on our recent trip to the Tubbataha reefs in the Philippines, we noticed some Titan Triggers building nests and doing some courtship dances. Ruh Roh we thought, and sure enough, within days the females were nesting and becoming belligerent. I kept a good eye out for nests and took great care to avoid any I saw, but one late afternoon dive, drifting in current in the darkening blue above the reef, I saw nests – several of them – and then… the dreaded charge. Muck sticks are not permitted in Tubbataha Marine Park, and so I felt somewhat defenceless. The guides had advised whacking your fins in the fish’s face if under attack, and I did, which thankfully eventually discouraged it.

Non-divers fear sharks. In my experience, having dove with thousands of them over the years, I’ve never felt threatened by a single one. But these maniacal (when nesting) fish? These are worthy of your fear…

How deep was that anyway?

The other evening we were sharing some of the highlights of our really memorable recent trip to the Tubbataha reefs in the Philippines with some non-diving buds, over beers at the local pub. The first question from an inquisitive friend was ‘How deep did you go?’. I teased him for not asking about what we saw/what made the diving so special/etc, but I get that non-divers are intrigued about what it’s like in the depths, and worry about how risky going deep might be. For me, I only go as deep as I need to try to capture a shot. (I’m not going to ‘fess up about a really deep {planned} dive, well below recreational limits – which is 130 ft – that I did with a bunch o’ adventurous divers in Cozumel quite a few years ago ). Generally, I’ll choose to max out at about 90 feet, unless there is a compelling reason to dive deeper, which is rare. Slow ascent and a long safety stop, as well as diving enhanced oxygen Nitrox instead of straight air, all contribute to keeping this pretty safe to do, even when doing multiple dives per day.

I captured this shot on the recent trip in the Philippines at about 90 feet, and it was the deepest I dove. I went down to try to capture the magic of a waterfall of these surgeonfish, which cascaded from the flat reef above – which itself was at about 50 feet. I like the moody blues, especially evocative on an early morning dive, before the sun is fully overhead. My photo can only hint at the awesome sight of hundreds of fish pouring off the reef above to dive into the depths, which, off the edge of the fringing reefs of the Tubbataha atolls, is thousands of feet deep! Truly, the abyss…