Maldives The Mother of All Diving Holidays

We seem to have the Indian Ocean to ourselves. It is late afternoon. We are the only people on the white sand beach, and the sea is a shade of blue that makes me want to use fanciful words like beryl and cerulean. Small hermit crabs scuttle by, giving us a wide berth as they carry off all the best shells washed up with the last tide. A thick wall of tropical green separates the beach from the world. Only two things give away the fact that we are not on a desert island, all evidence to the contrary. My two teens are plugged into their devices, courtesya phenomenal wi-fi connection at our little guest house behind the greenery. And beside us, a big warning sign proclaims that bikinis are prohibited beyond this point. For some reason, the kids think thats hilarious.

We are on Dhigurah, almost a 100km south of Mal. A speck in the Indian Ocean, the island is about 4km long and so narrow in parts that you can cross from east to west in a leisurely minute. We are here for a diving holiday. Its just me and the offspring. Ive been looking forward to getting away with them. As they get bigger and busier, I am only too aware that my time with them is ticking down.

I spent weeks dithering over where to go and where to stay. The reasons for picking this island were two-fold. Dhigurah has a reputation for its proximity to great dive sites, and for being one ofthe best places for spotting whale sharks. And The Boutique Beach Club (BB), where we are staying, isa British-owned guesthouse with a PADI-affiliated dive centre that offers an all-inclusive diving package I didnt need to sell a child to afford.

It has been a bit of a trek getting herethe journey from New Delhi took about 14 hours, mostly dueto inconvenient flight connection times. The international flight to Mal was followed by a long wait at the airport for a scheduled domestic flightto Maamigli airport. When we nally boarded the speedboat taxi to Dhigurah for the last leg, we were all feeling quite bedraggled. I felt my heart sinking. What had possessed me to bring two teenagers to an island in the middle of nowhere What if they hate it What if the place is awful God help us, what if the wi-fi doesnt work Just then, we spotted a whale shark, and a school of dolphins appeared. They raced along the boat, and escorted us almost to the shore. I took it as a sign.

Deep in the South Ari atoll of the Maldives and home to a traditional Muslim village, Dhigurah is a tiny, sleepy island. Though it has a registered population of about 600, we never see more than 15 people on any given day. No alcohol is allowedon the island and the bikini beach where we are lounging is the only place where bathing suits are permitted (though once you get out on the boats, you can wear what you like). We saw few other tourists, though there are a handful of small hotels and bed-and-breakfasts, and there are signs of imminent construction all over the island.

Almost instantly, we fall into a rhythm far removed from life back home. Our days begin early and we head to the BB dive boat after a quick breakfast. The crew takes care of absolutely everything and most dive sites are reached within half an hour. Kitting up, often quite a tedious process, is the most effortless we have experienced anywhere. We manage two dives most mornings and then another one after lunch. Every evening we walk down the beach and pick a new spot to view the spectacular sunsets. There is endless marvelling about the things we have seen under water, and much giggling and posing as Daughter directs photoshoots like the teenage pro she is. Back in the guesthouse, there is a spot with giant bean bags above the rooftop dining area which we have made our own, perfect for stargazing before dinner.

Though diving as a family hobby was very much driven by me, I worry about being an irresponsible parent before every trip we take. BBs owner, Romney Drury, cheerfully assures me, We have nothing dangerous here. No sea snakes, no dangerous sharks, rarely even jelly fish, an ever- growing problem elsewhere in Asia.

A quick Google search reveals a statistic that soothes my motherly fears. The last shark attack recorded here was in 1705. After our first day of diving, I am feeling fearless. Of course, the sea must always be treated with respect, but I cant recall feeling safer in any ocean or sea anywhere. We have extremely good weather the ocean is calm as a bathtub, and visibility is brilliant.

This is how our first day of diving went There is something called a drift dive, where you let the current carry you along. In ideal conditions and when you get your buoyancy (the ability to stay level at a particular depth) just right, it can feel like flying. We get dropped off beside a reef and start to drift on a moderate current.