I first visited the Maldives, in 1999, when the atolls were still divided into hot and cold water - not the ocean - the resorts. Much has changed since then, not least the names of the islands. There are a plethora of new resorts. Roughly 120 island resorts to choose from in the Maldives and still growing. I can't even find a name that looks familiar to me to describe the place I stayed. After long discussions with Chat GPT, who claimed to rifle the Kuoni archives, I have decided it must have been Veligandu, in the North Ari Atoll, since considerably upgraded.

Maldives - in a Nutshell

• Maldives has been a strictly Moslem country since the twelfth century. The first of the colonial powers to settle there were the Portuguese, followed by the Dutch. The British expelled the Dutch from Ceylon in 1796 and the Maldives was then tagged on as a British Protectorate. The protectorate came to an end in 1953, but British influence remained until 1965 and formal independence. The Republic of Maldives (official title) joined the then British Commonwealth.
• Questions have since been raised around human rights. Reports in 2012 suggested corruption, lack of religious freedom, abuse, and unequal treatment of women. As a result, Maldives left the Commonwealth for several years, but has since re-joined (2020).
• There are 1,192 islands in the Maldives, on 26 atolls. They are divided into: inhabited islands with chiefs and counsellors (187 of these), uninhabited islands (which include tourist resorts) and (recently) disappeared islands.
• If global warming continues on its current path the whole of Maldives may well end up on the disappeared list. Maldives is the smallest Asian country by both land area and population (roughly 375,000) and the lowest country in the world, with maximum and average natural ground levels of only 2.4 metres and 1.5 metres above sea level, respectively. For the moment, it still serves as an idyllic tourist destination with excellent snorkelling and diving on the many coral reefs.
• Tourism is the backbone of the economy, but it's a relatively recent development. The first visitors arrived in the 1970s.
• Fishing is the other mainstay. The traditional fishing boat is called a dhoni - they're also used for tourist expeditions and snorkelling trips.
• Maldives cuisine consists mainly of tuna, coconut, curries, banana, and a variety of carbohydrates such as yam, breadfruit, sweet potato, rice, and a local flatbread called roshi. There are also side dishes like bilimbi pickle, mas mirus (spicy dried tuna flakes), and theluli faiy (fried moringa leaves). Favourite desserts among locals are bondi (coconut palm sugar candy), ala pirini (yam pudding), bokuri bambekeyo (caramelized breadfruit), and paan boakiba (egg & bread pudding).

A New Millennium in Veligandu, Maldives, Maybe

This was a see-in the New Millennium beach break. The flight to the capital, Malé was tedious. It was a very cramped charter plane via Colombo. The capital city, Malé, occupies a whole island and, with over 100,000 people crammed onto it, is by some measures, the world’s densest city. The twenty minute seaplane flight from Malé to Veligandu (maybe) was far more acceptable, thrilling even, with great views of the islands and reefs.

Our island was tiny and could be circumnavigated in less than ten minutes. We had our own strip of powdery white beach - it was peaceful and gorgeous. The house reef was a few hundred yards too many away, for comfortable access. The aquamarine lagoon was clear and shallow, so the swim wasn’t too daunting - until I disturbed an octopus who shot out of the water in front of me. My scream woke up every one dozing on their sunbeds. The sights were suitably rewarding when I finally arrived - the coral teemed with tropical fish and turtles. Swimming alongside a turtle is incredibly relaxing; they look so serene.

We got to admire the ten new overwater bungalows, the first generation of overwater accommodation in the Maldives. The food wasn’t great – it’s all imported of course. The island is much too small to grow anything. New Year’s Eve brought live music and fireworks, with a flaming sign - 'Happy First Second of the Second Millennium’. I don't think they had the right millennium, or the right starting point for that matter. But it's the thought that counts...

Revisiting the Maldives

A revisit to the Maldives is called for. I only have a few pre-digital photos on my website. A lot has changed, since my last visit. In those days, tourists were only allowed on designated resort islands. Most of the islands are small and it’s usually one glitzy resort per island. You can often  run round it in five minutes. Since 2012, islands inhabited by the locals have also been permitted to host tourists. But with conditions. No alcohol and swimming costumes only on designated ‘bikini beaches’.

A huge disparity has developed between the resorts and the local islands. The former are now horrendously expensive. You’re lucky to find anything cheaper than 1000 USD a night, in high season. The guest houses come in at from 50-100 USD per night.

It goes without saying that I’ve decided to try out the guest houses. I’m trying to choose three islands, with the assistance of Chat GPT. I’m assured that the beaches are gorgeous and the snorkelling is just as good, with worthwhile house reefs. The guest houses/hotels look nice. No alcohol, but a much more authentic experience is promised. My fourth island will be capital, Malé.

Trying to Book Ahead

Of course, it’s easier said than done. The guest houses don’t seem very anxious to take bookings. Even those that have websites don’t feel the need to respond to emails. Some of them give WhatsApp numbers. But they ignore messages on those too. And, just to make sure, they ignore a ringing phone as well. One hotel actually does answer the phone and a grumpy young man says they will look at my email and reply ‘later’. They don’t.

I don’t want to book through Booking.com if I can, as I want to make sure I can organise the necessary flights and speedboat transfers, which have to be done by the hotel. It takes maybe eight attempts, with different accommodations, before I am sorted. Thank God for Farigh, at the Ataraxis Hotel, on Fuvamulah, in the far south, who is alone in responding to messages almost immediately and fixes my flights to his atoll for me.

Irash at the Rattehi Inn, on Rakeedhu, also eventually comes up trumps (although maybe nowadays I ought to use a different expression for somebody fixing something), after I find him on WhatsApp. And, last of all, after considerable bother, I track down a guest house, on Dhangethi, with one of the owners, a Czech lady. She answers on WhatsApp too. Huzzah. I’m fixed up.

Getting to the Maldives During Operation Epic Chaos

The flight is uneventful, despite the fact that many airlines have cancelled their Middle east routes, due to Trump’s Operation Epic Chaos, in Iran. Heathrow is refreshingly quiet. Capital Malé’s international terminal is now modern and shiny. Passport control is refreshingly speedy and I’m buzzing with excitement. That lasts until I have to pick up my bag. I’ve never seen such a slow luggage delivery carousel. Half an hour later I’m rushing to find my boat which goes at 11 a.m. This involves navigating a very long corridor to the jetty.

Dhangethi is where I start, so I have to work out which of the many moored speedboats is destined for that island. There are no signs and several blank faces. But I eventually make my way on board the correct vessel, with 15 minutes to spare.

The captain takes great delight in bumping over the many speed boat wakes as we zoom past the scrapers of Malé. After that, the sea is like glass. It’s a 90 minute run past a few dots of islands, lines of overwater bungalows (of course) a pod of dolphins on the horizon and the shadows of a ray or two.

Dhangethi

Dhangethi in a Nutshell

• Dhangethi is one of the inhabited islands of the South Ari (Alif Dhaal) Atoll, in fact, it's the capital, despite the fact that it’s just under a kilometre long and 325metres wide. Dhangethi's population is nominally 1200 souls, but fewer than 500 people actually live on the island. Most of the residents have moved to Malé, for education and better job opportunities.
• The locals refer to Dhangethi Island as ‘Handhu Runbaa' island. Handhu is 'moon' and Runbaa is 'jar' in Dhivehi. Way back, when the ancestors of Dhangethi depended on fishing, a group of fishermen set sail for a night ‘s work. That night, one fisherman on the boat saw the reflection of the moon in the jar in the dhoni half filled with water. Everyone was startled to see this sight and they hurried to Malé, to give the then Radhun (king) the moon as a present. But, of course, when they arrived, it had disappeared.
• Dhangethi is ideal for Maldives on a budget, I'm told. The speedboat transfers are 45 USD each way. You can get a ferry, for only 6 USD, if you don't mind taxiing to Malé and then catching the local slow ferry - six hours. If you’re rich, it’s the seaplane at 350 USD. Or you can charter your own speedboat, for a few thousand or so. But that rather defeats the point of my budget trip planning. There’s a range of accommodation, and it's relatively cheap, if you can get someone to answer your email or WhatsApp message. Atoll Residence is coming in at 85 USD per day, full board.
• Dhangethi is advertised as having a pristine white sand bikini beach, excellent non-stop food and daily excursions to unreal dive/snorkel spots. (Dhangethi is home to enigmatic mantas and gentle whale sharks.) And, tourism and fishing are the main sources of income on the island.
  

On Dhangethi

Bang on time, South Ari Atoll and Dhangheti's diminutive stone walled port, lined with the local wooden dhoni boats. They have Viking style prows. I’m greeted by three scarlet and white satellite masts, a collection of JCBs and piles of quarried coral sand, together with an unfinished concrete pier roof. Nestled behind that is the Bank of Maldives Self-Service Banking ATM centre, an important and recent innovation. But beyond that, once I’m transported five minutes, in a small wheeled metal cart, my piece of Dhangethi is quiet and beautiful, and the staff are exceptionally accommodating.

The beach, right opposite my guest house, is stunningly gorgeous. The best powdery white sand, cool to the feet (this is coral) and the sea is swirls of jade and sapphire. This Bikini Beach, accessed by welcoming arches of hibiscus, extends to the southerly point of the island, disappearing into a curling sand spit.

Czech Point

My room looks lovely, at first glance, modern with plenty of power points. And I’ve got a great view out to the reef. But places are budget for a reason. I’m trying not to look too closely at the battered door fittings, rusty pedal bin and mirror and scale-stained taps and especially (aargh the toilet seat). And the mattress is excruciatingly hard. The outdoor metal banister railings aren’t a great idea in the heat either. One burn is enough to ensure I refrain from touching them again. The Atoll Residence is nearly full with Czech families: statuesque blondes with neat figures and flat stomachs and lots of children milling around. Of course, I booked with a Czech lady. This is even marked as Czech Point (ha ha) on Google.

Sorting the Menu

Dinner is served under cover on the beach. And I soon learn why the food (non-stop?) is so cheap. It’s all cold as there's no heat source under the chafing dishes and it's all chips and pizza and pasta. One choice, but definitely not table d'hote. Apparently, that's what the guests like. The only beverages on offer are water or some very lurid orange squash. Despite the strap line plastered across reception ‘Feel the Local Vibes..’

I have words with one of the staff, who phones the boss (he only comes in to collect the money when guests arrive) and I explain to him that I’m not keen on the menu. He says the chef will cook what I want, if I talk to him. ‘Are you sure?’ I ask, ‘Where is he?’ Ah, it's the guy I’ve been complaining to. He's a really delightful Sri Lankan. And sure enough he serves me up rice, fish and chicken from then on.

One Czech couple, with a young son, who has very good English turn out to be part of management too. (This is definitely a Czech enclave.) On Day Three they feed me pumpkin soup and Hungarian flat dough pancakes. A kind of palacsinta, they say, though it's nothing like the ones I had in Budapest. Nevertheless, highly calorific, but delicious, with cheese and mayonnaise. Things are definitely looking up.

Exploring Dhangethi

It doesn't take long to explore Dhangethi. The streets are all sand, some of quite deep; it’s as if it has all been built on the beach. And you can see the water at both ends of them. There are plenty of signs dotted around to remind us tourists what the dress code is. I'm exhorted not to just wrap a flimsy piece of material round my torso. That's my sarong out then. Though naturally, not all the tourists are obedient.

From a distance, the island looks relatively green. There are plenty of trees, palms and decorative bougainvillea. However, most of Dhangethi is built up, with some sort of beach running round all of it. There are eight minimarts, four restaurants and cafes and 12 souvenir shops. Alongside are the hospital, school, cultural centre, activities centre (with stage) pretty green mosque, football field (the only spot of grass but looking unused), some hard games courts and a telephone company office. The south side of the island, where I find the bikini beach is where most of the hotels are. There's more construction going on here, apace.

The north half is more industrial - if that's the right word. The essential desalination plant and numerous ship yards. In-between the two, the main shopping area, surprisingly buzzy. This is home to those souvenir shops. To one end, the main port, to the other, a pier, the council offices and a couple of cafes and exhibition areas. This is where most of that buzz comes from. There’s even an ‘I love Dhangethi’ sign.

Back at the Ranch

Day One and my room hasn't been cleaned at all. I’m not sure if this is an oversight or hotel policy, but I'm not saying anything as I fear I have exhausted all possible good will on my food discussions. Day Two and I arrive back from the beach to find cleaning in progress. I point out the underside of the toilet seat and the guy departs to fetch heftier weapons than those he had already brought in. Day Three doesn't bring any cleaning at all again. Either that's the hotel plan or he's avoiding being asked to do unpleasant tasks again.

I’m emulating the Germans and bagging a sunbed right by the sea. Though I don't think there is much competition. The Czechs are all heading down to the end of the Bikini Beach where beds and thatched umbrellas are both plentiful. The shade is needed - it's well over 30 Celsius.

Little Richard

As is frequently the case I soon acquire a ginger and white feline companion. He's small but feisty, determined to crawl on top of me. Fortunately, for me (but not him) he seems to have been declawed.

At dinner, it transpires that he (the Czechs tell me they have named him Richard for some reason) has half a dozen equally small and fluffy companions, nearly all with the same colour markings. There's a scrimmage as they compete for dinner scraps, even following me to my room, in the hope of more.( I suspect that's all the food they get.) But there is carnage when the cats slink into the indoor eating area. This is where the semi tame long billed whimbrels wander and where they're fed bowls of seeds. ( I think they must have clipped their wings.) The shrieking cats are scooped up and swiftly deposited back outside.

Little Richard is definitely king of the castle, despite his size. He even monopolizes the buffet table on the beach, when he thinks no-one is looking.

Some Dhangethi Snorkelling Adventures - Part One - Turtles (Or Not)

If it's a tropical island then there has to be snorkelling. First, a speed boat out to the reef, to look for turtles. My four on board companions adopt strange positions as if they're expecting some kind of combat. An Australian couple and a Russian mother and grimacing son. ( There are lots of Russians here too.) The doom and gloom Aussies tell me that I’ve paid too much for my trip on the boat and my next island Fuvamulah is very boring, nothing there and no bikini beach, unless I go diving for tiger sharks. Oh joy.

There’s no turtle joy either. Not a reptile to be seen, but the section of reef is long and there are other amusements. Black and white tipped reef sharks, plentiful shoals of marine life, including pipe fish and considerable amounts of live coral, though most of it is sepia brown. At least, it shows the colourful fish off to perfection.

Some Dhangethi Snorkelling Adventures - Part Two - Whale Sharks (Or Not)

Next day, it's the same crew and a longer expedition into the South Ari Atoll. This time, we're looking for whale sharks (a bucket list sight) and mantas. Conveniently, they inhabit the same waters. Very nice for the tour operators, who charge 75 USD for each or combine both to make it 150 USD, for the trip. I don't think you get double the time, though a double jackpot (both in the same frame), was reportedly seen last Thursday.

Today's co passengers are more Russians - a couple, with very little English and not much more in the way of manners, and a Vietnamese medic, who works in the USA, so has very good English and very glittery fingernails. He's called Jason and he begins by asking the guide, Shaun, to take a video of him (it must be vertical) in front of the animals, when we see them. I feel he is being optimistic on several counts.

It's a promising start, as some dolphins motor past. but after that things go decidedly downhill. It seems that everyone else in the Maldives is also hunting whale sharks. There are hundreds of boats bobbing, the passengers sittings upfront, fins at their sides, ready to assault the ocean, at the word jump. It is an assault too, a medley of kicking and shoving from folk, who clearly don't know how to swim or snorkel. There's no instruction or regulation whatsoever.

When a manta does appear and we manage to get close, someone will dive down, waving their cell phone camera, in its plastic wallet and the poor manta swims even deeper down. I saw two, but nowhere near well enough to get a decent image and one only very briefly, as it flees the scene. Very different to other manta visits in Micronesia or the Solomon Islands, where we wait quietly for the giant creatures to glide into their cleaning station and are not allowed to move from our spot.

The Whale Shark Wait

There are whale shark alarms, when Captain Bob takes great delight in careering over the wakes left by the boats who left before us, shrieking excitedly, as he twists the wheel wildly. He’s got long curly hair, which streams behind him. The whale shark doesn’t return. I don't blame him.

We are waiting and bobbing a lot more (perhaps that's why he's called Captain Bob). But the closest we've got to seeing a whale shark is a dhoni, with that name Jason is getting desperate, so he brings out his drone to go search for the whale shark, reported, somewhere in the vicinity. He has been reluctant to use it, as landing it is going to be fraught. It’s quickly launched, but immediately crashes into a strut of the boat canopy and bounces into the sea. There is much bad language. Bob manages to retrieve it by diving in, but there is steam emanating from the battery. It's laid out sadly to dry, limbs flailing.

All is quiet again. I’m desperate for a pee, so ask to go in for a swim. Mid flow, I’m interrupted by a yell and a demand I return to the boat immediately. It’s difficult to explain why I can't. And my scramble back onto the boat is even less dignified than usual, as I’m shouted at to hurry up. The ladder on this vessel moves with the waves, so it's hard to hold onto it and climb and no-one helps you scramble on-board. Needless to say, by the time we’ve bumped over to the other side of the lagoon the whale shark has dispatched itself.

Shaun rubs salt into the wound by showing us Thursday’s video. I’m not amused. This was not my best day out. I don't think the drone enjoyed it either. Perhaps I’m a jinx. That’s the second drone that's been used close to me and both have been lost in water. (See Tino in Reunion.)

Leaving Dhangethi

Dhangethi is a definite recommendation. The accommodation. Ummmm. Despite the lovely and well-meaning staff, I can't overlook the toilet seat.

But it’s time to leave. A day or two out of the sun may be called for. Yesterday, I wore a full body suit most of the day. The only exposed extremities, my hands and face, are red raw burnt and swollen. My eyes are slits. And I definitely put sun lotion on my face. At least it’s only a couple of bits of me. And I’ve given myself a free facial peel.

It’s an early start for the 7 a.m. boat back to Malé. I fondly imagine a peaceful ride, admiring the islands as we whizz past and taking a few photos. I need to curb my imagination. The boat is packed, almost definitely overloaded and the plastic awnings are down. Black screens also on my side. Yesterday’s Russians are seated next to me. Apart from barking at me to move my bag they ignore me. I’m unsure if they recognise me and aren’t going to acknowledge this or aren’t even aware. We all doze quietly.

Fuvahmulah - the Nothing To Do Island?

Getting to Fuvamulah

It's a plane to Fuvahmulah next, but it doesn’t go for another seven and a half hours. I tried to check in online during the night but was not allowed to. Ticket problem, it says. That’s slightly alarming. I try to find the domestic terminal. There don’t seem to be any signs. Over there, says the man at the Help Desk. But that’s Terminal 2, the old international terminal, still characterful with rows of tiny booths outside, servicing every possible aspect of the tourist industry. Google eventually informs me that this became the domestic terminal in February. It boats it's gone from three check in desks to 27. Next mission is to track down someone from Maldivian Airlines and ask about my ticket. But there’s no one at the ticket counter.

At least there’s a left luggage office. And then I wander along the many little quaysides to the Hulhule Hotel. It's a good place to hide in the bar, with a view across the water. There are an English family round the pool. They’ve been here a week, since their Emirates flight home was cancelled. There are many others in the same boat. Most of the hotels are full, busy bumping folk out or on as the inclination takes them and raising their prices.

Back at the airport, I buy KFC for an extortionate 10 USD, only to discover that I've been served what is probably yesterday's leftovers. The chips are hard and cold. I finally check in, much too early. After the clerk has given me a heart attack by telling me my flight has already left . Then I realise he’s pointing to my return flight, which will have left today. The islands have some of the most unprounceable names I’ve ever come across. Fuvahmulah seems to be said something like Formulaiah. I shall have to listen hard, to make sure I get on the right flight.

Fuvahmulah in a Nutshell

• Fuvahmulah is the second southernmost administrative atoll in the Maldives, 500 kilometres south of Malé, and a mere 33 kilometres from the Equator - in the southern hemisphere.
• It measures roughly 4.5 kilometres in length and 1.2 kilometres across.
• It is unique, because it is a one-island atoll surrounded by deep oceans.
• Fuvahmulah is renowned as a premier diving destination, particularly for tiger sharks and large pelagics, as its waters are nutrient rich. It’s apparently known as the ‘Galapagos of the Maldives’.
• It’s also the third most populous island after Malé and Addu. 11,000 people.

On Fuvahmulah

So now I've popped over the Equator. This is probably the closest I’m going to get to the Chagos Islands, which are on several travel checklists, but virtually inaccessible, unless you’re in the military. And it’s even hotter here. I’m still deciding on whether or not there is nothing to do. I’ve asked for a tour and been told it will take 30 minutes to an hour. There's a very scenic beach (with the two-tone blue water to which I have become accustomed) just up the road. Thoondu is lauded for its small white pebbles. I’m unsure why. There are a lot more on Chesil Beach, but perhaps those aren't as snowy white and shiny. It must also be because these are unique in the Maldives, where all the beaches are powdery coral sand.

The side roads are packed down sand, but the main roads are wide asphalt, with painted kerbs and flower beds alongside the pavements and in the central reservation. More neat shops and cafes and the football pitches here are AstroTurf. It’s all very smart. But very quiet and the beaches are empty. It’s Ramadan, so maybe it's livelier at other times. And the locals are still friendly, with children stopping to talk. ‘You’re very beautiful’ is always a good chat up line, despite the fact my face is scarlet and blistered. And even the women don’t mind having their picture taken.

A Tour of Fuvahmulah

Hotel manager Haam takes me on my tour, which lasts just over an hour. We start at the northern tip. There's the Geimiski Mosque, the oldest mosque in the Maldives, built of coral stone some 900 years ago, by Ah Naib Al-Hafiz Abubakr, thought to be one the first advocates of Islam. The compound houses a shrine built which formerly contained three tombs, one of which is believed to hold his remains.

It's thought to be built over a Buddhist temple site which explains the large tank in the corner and the odd orientation of the main building. The tank was used as a veyo, for ablutions, but is now home to fish. There's also a rectangular well, which, according to local myth, has four corners that offer distinctive tasting water. The liquid is green and we're advised not to to test this proposition.

The Buddhist connection is reinforced by Havitta, the ruins of a pre-Islamic Buddhist monastery, 500 feet away. the stupa is now s a heap of grass.

Haam waxes lyrical about the natural resources on this island. Fuvahmulah is very green and fertile compared to other Maldivian islands, with plenty of agriculture: taro, mangoes, bananas, aubergines and other vegetables, greens and tropical fruits. In ancient times, the southern end of Fuvahmulah had a small islet with a saltwater lagoon forming a natural harbour. Over time, the coral reefs grew and closed the channel connecting the lagoon to the sea. The lagoon lost its saltiness and is today known for its two freshwater lakes, Dhadimagi Kilhi and Bandaara Kilhi.

The lakes are surrounded by marshlands which are mainly dense vegetation of ferns, reed and taro fields. They feature sedate restaurants and board walks to view the emerald green stretches around the water and the herons and moorhens swooping and dabbling. And boats if you want to get really close up. There's an additional Nature Park with another board walk down in the south east. This one has no visible water, but plenty of grasslands.

The island is being sympathetically and beautifully developed. There's a Beach Promenade Plan to link Thoondu with the harbour, in the south. Extra, small harbours are being created, with beach and water sports sections. Down by the main harbour, in front of the fish market, some of the locals are volunteering to construct a raised viewing area: beach, airport and harbour. There’s even a webcam on the fish market, so locals can see what fish has been brought in and is up for sale. There's a black pebble beach there too, but it's too close to the airport runway and security won't allow visitors.

Sharks

• Sharks are Selachii - cartilaginous fishes with ribless endoskeletons, a sister group to the Batomorphi (rays and skates).
• Sharks have been around for a long time. Shark-like creatures - chondrichthyans such as Cladoselache and Doliodus - first appeared in the Devonian Period (419–359 million years), though some fossilized chondrichthyan-like scales are as old as the Late Ordovician (458–444 million years ago). The earliest confirmed modern sharks (Selachii) were found in the Early Jurassic, around 200 million years ago
• They are found in all the seas of the world, mainly living in saltwater. (The bull shark and river sharks can be found in both seawater and freshwater, and the Ganges shark, lives only in freshwater.)
• Sharks have a covering of placoid scales (denticles) which protects the skin from damage and parasites, as well as improving their fluid dynamics. They have numerous sets of replaceable teeth.(!)
• Sharks range hugely in size, from the small dwarf lantern shark, a deep sea species that is only 17 centimetres in length, to the whale shark (Rhincodon typus), the largest fish in the world, which reaches approximately 12 metres to 18.8 metres in length. Despite its huge size, the whale shark is an active filter feeder, primarily consuming plankton, krill, fish eggs, and small schooling fish, such as sardines and anchovies. It can process over 6,000 litres of water per hour, through its specialized sieve-like gill pads. Whale sharks are highly migratory, travelling thousands of miles across tropical oceans to exploit seasonal food sources, Whale sharks are known as gentle giants, docile and posing no significant threat to humans. Nevertheless, they are currently listed as an Endangered Species, due to a population decline of more than 50% over the last 75 years.

• Several shark species however, are apex predators, organisms which sit at the top of their food chain. These are the sharks which make the headlines: bull shark, tiger shark, great white shark, mako sharks, thresher sharks and hammerhead sharks.
• Tiger shark females are capable of attaining a length of over 5 metres. The name derives from the dark stripes down the shark's body, which resemble a tiger's pattern. They’re mainly seen on the juveniles, fading as the sharks grow and move into murkier, deeper waters, where the stripes aren't necessary and dingy grey suits them better. They’re distinguishable by their small dorsal fins, broad heads (home to all those teeth) and long narrow tails. away from human influence, the tiger shark is a solitary, mostly nocturnal hunter, notable for having the widest food spectrum of all sharks, with a range of prey which includes crustaceans, fish, seals, birds, squid, sea turtles, sea snakes, dolphins, and others, even smaller sharks. It also has a reputation as a 'garbage eater', consuming a variety of inedible, man-made objects which then linger in its stomach.
• The orca is the tiger sharks have only recorded natural predator. Nevertheless, it is considered a near-threatened species, because of because of hunting by humans. The tiger shark is second only to the great white in recorded fatal attacks on humans, (apparently these events are still exceedingly rare).
• Sharks main enemy is humans, who catch them for their meat or fins, often simply mutilating the fish and throwing them back. Since 1970, shark populations have been reduced by 71%.

Shark Island

As my Aussie doom-mongers pointed out, Fuvamulah is a place for divers. It's also known as Shark Island. I’ve checked out the diving scene and it is all shark orientated. There are several kinds around, but tiger sharks, the second most dangerous to man are the main draw. I've also learned that there is a possibility of snorkelling or ‘free diving’, which means staying as still as you can, mainly on the surface and not making any splashes, in case the sharks think you are in distress. I'm going to pass on that.

All the shark action happens down at the harbour entrance, at 'Tiger Zoo', so the dive boats don't have to go far. And I don't actually have to get in the water, thankfully, to see them. The sharks used to collect down at the fish market end of the port, where they threw the fish remnants into the sea after gutting and trimming. Now, the boatmen throw tuna heads and skins into the ocean at the other end. It certainly brings in the sharks, who throng in the area - as far as I can see, mostly tiger sharks (further out) and reef sharks.

The tiger sharks’ stripes camouflage beautifully in the waves, as the light refracts across them. Photos from above aren't very easy. The water is choppy today and those refracting stripes work very well. I'm a little perturbed by the shark baiting. I don't think it's very environmentally sound. What's more I know what happened after the reef sharks were fed in the Cocos Islands. And these are bigger and much more aggressive. But I'm told there have never been any reported incidents. (There weren't in Cocos either, even after the attack I witnessed.)

The Ataraxis Hotel and Spa

This hotel is a little gem. Huge rooms with a seating area and balconies. No rusty bins here. Though it is twice the price. It also boasts a lift which plays music, a rooftop café with a sauna and a fairly swanky downstairs restaurant, complete with outdoor staircase, leading up to a mezzanine eating area. It's called The Spot. The kindest and most attentive of staff bring me beautifully presented and nicely cooked food. The Indian dishes are spicy and delicious. Tuna served as a battered fish and chip meal is a little more surprising.

The Ataraxis sits rather oddly in what seems to be the middle of nowhere, surrounded by banana plantations and vegetable patches: taro, aubergines, sweet potatoes. But closer inspection reveals another hotel, a dive centre and a restaurant or two, just up the road.

It's very pleasant, in the cooler evening, eating up on the rooftop, views across to the lakes, listening to the melodic Iftar signal that it's time to break fast, with dates and water, wafting up from the mosque below. Fuvamulah is a serene place to be and it's worth a visit. Though maybe a short one.

Rakeedhoo

Rakeedhoo in a Nutshell

• Rakeedhoo is tiny – the smallest inhabited island in the Maldives.
• Online guides say it is 1.1 kilometres long and 0.6 kilometres wide, but a chat with Google confirms what my eye tells me. It's only 400metres at most, by 200 metres, at most.
• Rakeedhoo Island is beautifully located in the heart of Vaavu Atoll, approximately 75 kilometres from Malé. The island’s position offers excellent protection from strong currents. That's probably just as well.
• Rakeedhoo is home to approximately 60 residents, although as with most islands, the population is decreasing. It was 360.
• What community there is, is apparently known for preserving traditional Maldivian practices including music, dance, and fishing techniques. Rakeedhoo is apparently, particularly renowned for its traditional handicrafts, including mat weaving, rope making and coconut shell crafts.

Getting to Rakeedhoo

No tourist boats travelling to Rakeedhoo – not enough people. I’m on a local ProJets’ speedboat from Malé and everyone else on board is Maldivian, returning to other islands, after a visit to the capital. This boat operates like Uber. You can even track its progress online. The sea is choppier today and there are bumps on and off the whole way. Although we pass far more islands on this southerly route, out of Malé, some of them fairly built up, though not to the extremes of Malé. A few tiny islets have been flattened by JCBs, which are still at work. Surely, they're not planning to build on them, with rising sea levels?

Welcome to Rakeedhoo Island

Luckily, I’ve left the best till last. Rakeedhoo is as gorgeous as promised. Two guest houses. Mine, the Rattehi Inn is absolutely delightful, with every sort of comfortable chair, shade, tree and tasteful decoration (boats feature a lot) you could imagine. Hens skitter along, with chicks in their wake. I check them every day, but there are still four. No foxes here. Even cuter are the fluffy long legged watermen chicks, who also rampage through the grounds daily. The kanbili, as they are officially called, is the Maldivian national bird.

Sunbeds with thatched umbrellas ranged alongside the curving white sand beach. There’s the usual menagerie present. Minuscule hermit crabs drag their shell homes along the beach, leaving wavy trails in the sand, lizards scurry past trying to stay unnoticed, the resident heron perches majestically on the little coral stone arm and the micro ants track me down yet again and stream onto my sunbed. The air is fragrant with the scent of the white flowered beach naupaka. A turquoise lagoon which stretches waist high at most, out to the reef. A swing in the water (the Maldivians like those), a tiny pier. And most of the property lit up with strings of diamond lights at night. Paradise.

The downside (sadly there always is one), mosquitoes in the evening, which is when the dinner the tables are set atmospherically alongside the bay and the proximity of the mosque. Iftar is celebrated especially loudly on Friday evening. But it doesn't go on too long and the bites aren’t those horrible itchy ones.

The Rakeedhoo House Reefs

The PR boasts that the house reef is very accessible. It’s easily visible where the turquoise turns sapphire. You can wade out to it, but it's a long way when you are on your own. And the lights on the jetty, set up to attract the wildlife at night reveal stingrays and the teeniest of baby black tipped sharks meandering along. Followed by some full sized nurse sharks. I know these are not aggressive, but, sorry to be repetitive, I can’t forget Cocos. I don't want to meet one in the water, on my own.

So, I book a boat to take me out there. It’s a lovely little reef, brimming with diverse marine life, plenty of small fluorescent blue fish and colourful coral formations. The reef is sprouting hundreds of miniature clams, surrounded by a huge variety of other tropical finned creatures. A lobster pokes its feelers out of one crevice and an unusually friendly eagle ray pops up to say hello. Larger black tipped sharks keep their distance.

I’m not the only one impressed by the reef. There’s usually a Maldives live-aboard diving cruiser or two out there, swaying on the waves. A second trip takes me to two further reefs in the Vaavu Atoll. One presents even more colourful fish and greenback turtles (finally). The other has endless gardens of gorgeous coral in fascinating shapes and sizes. It’s a veritable sci-fi city.

Rakeedhoo - in the Swing of Things

Otherwise Rakeedhoo is quiet. I've been for a walk round the island. That didn't take long. Very traditional houses. It seems poorer than the other places I have visited, but still smiley and happy. No sign of the traditional craft making, but its Ramadan. Otherwise, there is little to do except admire the view and take an occasional dunk in the lagoon.

On my fourth day, I awake to find, consternation, that the swing is decidedly askew. Apparently it’s been given some overly rough treatment by one family and a post has broken. This morning's entertainment consists of watching six men attempt to dismantle it and carry the sign away. It's not an easy task. It requires scaffolding and the use of snorkels, to deal with the foundations.

Malé

I’m sad to leave, but its one more bumpy speed boat journey to Malé. It's not a comfortable or scenic ride. Stuck in the middle of the back seat I can't see out of any of the windows. The Chinese tourist next to me seem to view it as a tortuous exercise. Hoods zipped right up they are resting their heads on the seats in front of them, eyes closed, jaws clenched, cushioned by those neck protector pillows.

Malé in a Nutshell

• Malé is the capital and most populous city of the Maldives. (211,000). Malé Island is, by some measures, the most densely populated island in the world. It's almost entirely covered in tower blocks.
• Administratively, the city consists of the central island, an airport island Hulhule, and five other island, most notably Vilimale. Malé Island, is now linked to the airport island by a long road bridge,
• Traditionally it was the King's Island, from where the ancient royal dynasties ruled and where the palace was located. The city was then called Mahal, a walled city surrounded by fortifications and gates. But the Royal Palace (Gan'duvaru) was destroyed, along with the picturesque forts (koshi) and bastions (buruzu) when the city was remodelled under President Ibrahim Nasir, after the abolition of the monarchy, in 1968.
• The Malé region is home to over 100,000 motor bikes, which vastly outnumber the 7,500 or so cars. The number of car parking spaces is fewer than the number of vehicles. And the bikes are parked everywhere. They obstruct the narrower inland streets, so that cars can't actually get through. And the motor bike riders give no quarter. The pavements are narrow and blocked by electrical cabinets and blue pipes. (used by the construction industry to channel water away from sites). There are plenty of zebra crossings but the bike riders don’t stop. They weave round you as you cross the road, grimacing and grunting if they actually have to apply the brakes. It reminds me of the city streets of Vietnam, though thankfully it's not quite that intimidating.

Unima Grand

Pick up (free) is promising. I’m met on the jetty by a smartly uniformed young man, who delivers me to another uniformed chauffeur. The hotel is just across the ocean to the airport and near the Green Al-Noor Mosque (solar panels on the roof and air conditioning no less) and the new blue roofed waterside King Salman Mosque. That is also promising, but that’s where the positivity ends.

My city view room, in fact, doesn’t have a view at all. Just a window onto air conditioning ducts. The girl on reception tells me that all the 'superior rooms' are the same. Only sea view rooms have views. I say this is deception and an odd use of the word superior. The bell boy tells me there were city views until they built more hotels next door. That doesn’t account for the duct view. I eventually get moved to a room with a window that looks onto the adjacent building. 'It's better, but not good', I tell the bell boy.

I’m hungry, as I didn’t eat lunch, so it's the tenth floor restaurant next. That’s got very nice views. The food is dire. Rice with no flavour whatsoever and lemon garlic kebabs that are charred and tough and tasteless. I fear they have been reheated. And the Wi-Fi is terrible. I have to sign in again every five minutes. City hotels are always a gamble. Don’t stay in this one.

Circumnavigating Malé

Time to cool off, (physically and mentally) wandering around the main island of Malé. Past the artificial beach, pretty enough, with its imported sand and following the waterside path to the southerly parts of the island, which is mostly ports and jetties with fish markets and docks, for the many ferries which cross to and fro. There’s even a posh presidential jetty. That’s opposite the government buildings (police headquarters and President's Office) on Republic Square. Huzzah. Some open space and a let up in the claustrophobia.

It's not yet dusk. Lines of water bottles and dates have been laid on the ground outside the mosque in anticipation of ramadan fast breaking. But many of the locals have jumped the gun. The cafes are heaving and there are lines outside the numerous Iftar buffets on offer. The Malé cats too are feasting. (The people of the Maldives seem partial to cats.) There's a cat sanctuary close to the main mosque, with hutch type dwellings and plenty of kibble.

Leaving the Maldives

It's been another great trip, but this one, it seems is destined to end with a whimper. From the Unima Grand to the British Airways flight. I'm penned in, by the window, in economy. There's a baby next to me, bringing the inevitable kicking, hair tugging and squalling. The Wi-Fi won't work. My screen crashes four times. I give up asking for it to be reset after that. When it does work, it will only play the TV episodes in the wrong order, odd episodes follow each other, as do the even episodes. At least I get to scan the whole season, when I just watch every other instalment. And there is turbulence nearly the whole journey. For two hours it's so bad the crew also stay in their seats.

At Heathrow, I collect my luggage and go to wait for my bus. but it's ETA keeps being pushed back. There's a fire in the Heathrow Tunnel. Aargh. I'm never travelling again... (How many times have I said that?)