Ruled by the tides
Remote Aldabra atoll is the jewel in the Seychelles’ crown, still pristine and unspoiled
The last time a Lindblad Expeditions ship was destined for the Aldabra atoll — the most remote in the Seychelles chain of islands — a Somali pirate ship forced it to turn back. Five years later, pirates are no longer a problem, and I am lucky enough to join the return journey aboard National Geographic Orion, along with 102 other passengers, to this uninhabited, isolated coral reef in the middle of the glittering Indian Ocean.
Aldabra feels like a forgotten tropical paradise — especially when you get your first glimpse of a giant tortoise sauntering along the silky white sand like she owns the place. Dozens of her friends and neighbours lumber around, black eyes glinting in the sunlight, stretching out their leathery necks to be rubbed. It feels like your child’s Grade 3 dinosaur project suddenly sprang to life.
“We are like the guardians of paradise,” says Heather Richards, one of 17 scientists and rangers with the Seychelles Island Foundation, which is responsible for protecting Aldabra’s unique wildlife, marine reserve area and 400 endemic species. “You want to share this fantastic place with people, but you also worry the presence of visitors will detract from the place itself.”
The second largest atoll in the world, Aldabra is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and the jewel in the Seychelles’ crown. Located 400 kilometres east of the African mainland, with no airstrip or ferry, it is so hard to reach that most Seychellois never get to see it.
The Orion’s12-day journey began in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. Among the 102 passengers on board was Sven-Olof Lindblad, CEO of the New York-based expedition travel company — one of the few that come here — and Sir James Mancham.
“We are like the guardians of paradise. You want to share this fantastic place with people, but you also worry the presence of visitors will detract from the place itself.”
HEATHER RICHARDS
SEYCHELLES ISLAND FOUNDATION
Mancham is the founding president of the Seychelles.
The journey was a particularly meaningful one for both. The Seychelles trip encapsulates the mission of Lindblad Expeditions, which teamed up with National Geographic 10 years ago, and is dedicated to curating high-end trips that focus on exploration and conservation. Both Lindblad and Mancham played historic roles in keeping the Seychelles, which have long been subject to geopolitics due to its strategic location between Africa and India, from being exploited. In the 19th century, both the British and the French fought for control over the Seychelles, with France holding sway until 1810 when it capitulated to Britain. In 1965, the U.K., with the U.S., planned to construct military facilities on Aldabra atoll. However, Lindblad’s father, Lars Eric Lindblad, a noted environmentalist who also had a travel company, worked with Mancham to lobby to prevent this. In the end, the military base was located on the island of Diego Garcia, 965 kilometres east.
Lindblad, through his company Lindblad Travel, then launched a more sustainable industry in this Indian Ocean island nation — ecotourism — and charted the first ships to Aldabra before the country even had an international airport.
“There is so much beauty here, but it is so remote,” said Mancham. “Mr. Lindblad succeeded in creating a new kind of tourism in one of the most isolated parts of the world."
Visitors will be enchanted by the lonesome, surreal feel of the Aldabra. You’ll find flightless, white-throated rail birds — delicate hopping creatures with short wings who are surprisingly friendly — as well as red-footed boobies, coconut crabs the size of soccer balls, 3,000 nesting sea turtles, a huge frigate bird colony, black-tipped reef sharks, humpback whales, stingrays and other species. Last year, a scientist even found a snail that was thought to be extinct. An absence of predators means the animals and plants have made unique adaptations to the environment.
Despite Aldabra’s picturesque appeal, the mangrove-covered atoll is an inhospitable place for humans, with jagged coral shores, no fresh water, little fresh soil, and limited deep-water anchorage: all keys to its survival as a wildlife preserve.
Our visit is ruled by the tides, which sweep in and out twice a day, pumping water in and out of the lagoon. “We don’t have seasons here; we have the northwest winds, and the southeast winds and there are times when you cannot even travel to parts of the atoll as they disappear under water,” says Richards.
“The Seychelles reminds us of the ocean’s power,” says Lindblad.
His company works with Pristine Seas, an environmental group that aims to protect 10 per cent of the world’s oceans.
“The Seychelles is now one third protected,” he says.
And yet, rising sea levels caused by climate change could inundate some of the 115 islands in the archipelago. Illegal fishing must be kept in check in places such as Aldabra, as there is still a black market for turtle and tortoise. The coral reef is also vulner- able to human activity, and even snorkeling must be limited.
It’s hard not to love a country like Seychelles, where there are three dozen different kinds of mango trees, locals who combine an exotic blend of Asian, African and European looks, and delicious spicy food (although locals swear by the fruit bats sautéed in red wine, I wasn’t brave enough to sample them, however). It also has perfect weather, thanks to its proximity to the equator but outside of the cyclone belt.
And yet, there is a sense that without committed global effort and support, the Seychelles’ pristine appeal could easily be lost forever.
Aldabra is among the rarest of places — I am lucky to have seen it — and a timeless treasure that you almost don’t want anyone else to know about, for fear of spoiling it. Marina Jimenez travelled to the Seychelles as a guest of Lindblad in March.