Freshwater Diving … no thanks, not for me. Just the thought of it used to bring back haunting memories of freezing my toes off on an overcast morning in some dank quarry. Visibility zero, water temperature 6 degrees and air temperature not much better. If I remember correctly, the highlight of one particular dive was bumping into discarded shopping trolleys from three different supermarkets! As an unashamed ‘fair-weather diver’ I had no inclination to drop back into any type of desalinated underwater environment. That of course all changed when I stumbled upon Lake Malawi.
Malawi is known for … well, to be honest, beyond Madonna it is known for very little. A small landlocked nation in Central Africa, sandwiched between the equator and the Tropic of Cancer and overshadowed by its’ larger and better known neighbours Zambia, Tanzania and Mozambique. What Malawi does have is a reputation as the ‘Warm Heart of Africa’, which despite being a moniker incessantly pushed by its’ tourism industry, is for once, quite apt. When crossing into Malawi via any of its overland borders, there is a tangible sense of being able to drop your guard and not worry about being hassled by the multitude of hawkers who pop up at any tourist destination. Malawi has more of a chilled out Caribbean feel, which is only enhanced when any visitor inevitably reaches the shores of its’ eponymous Lake.
Lake Malawi is a continuation of the Great Rift Valley that originates in Syria before diving into the Red Sea on its way south, and eventually settling on Malawi’s eastern border. A freshwater body the size of Wales, it acts as breadbasket to the country by providing water, fish, tourism and life. Like its geological cousin a few thousand kilometres north, the Scuba Diving is excellent. Though, at an altitude of 470 metres special precautions have to be taken. Switching your computer to its correct altitude setting will do, otherwise it’s a case of adding 10% to your depth whilst working out Nitrogen levels and ascending twice as slow than at sea level. Unlike most altitude diving, there is certainly no need for gloves and a hoodie with a water temperature varying from a balmy 24 degrees in June to a scorching 30 degrees in December! In the Bays of the Northern lakeshore visibility is consistently good and can peak at 20 metres in May. The freshwater together with the tropical water temperature means that with 3-5mm wetsuits, many can forgo cumbersome weight systems. Quarry diving this certainly is not!
What makes Malawi diving beautiful, isn’t just the stunning rock formations that are an underwater continuation of the escarpment as it plunges into the Lake, but also the endemic Cichlids. Popular as freshwater aquarium fish around the world, Cichlids have an incredible diversity. As a fish that develops remarkably quickly, combined with being fiercely territorial, different species have evolved to produce a Lake more diverse in fish life than any other. Over a thousand different types have been accounted for, with more being discovered all the time. In Africa, Cichlids can also be found in Lake Tanganyika, and were once prevalent in Lake Victoria until hungry Nile Perch with a taste for Cichlid flesh were introduced as an ill-fated fishing enterprise. If you want to see the African Cichlid in its’ habitat, then Lake Malawi is your best bet. With several Dive schools stretched from Nkhata Bay in the North to Cape Maclear in the South, via both islands of Chizimulu and Likoma, accessibility and equipment hire certainly isn’t a problem. Neither is accommodation, with all dive spots being in the vicinity of rooms to suit all tastes and budgets.
Cichlid species vary remarkably between different locations, and in many dive spots you can be safe in the knowledge that some of the fish you are swimming with cannot be found anywhere else in the world. This has led to some aquarium enthusiasts paying hundreds of dollars for one rare specimen. To Cichlid laymen however, they all simply look small and pretty! A multitude of different tropical colours on show, as various Cichlids graze on rock algae, each species developing different lip formations as not to compete over the same food source. Fish of deep blue and purple shimmering through the translucent waters, complemented by others of bright yellows and whites. These optical pleasures aren’t limited to above rocks, many Cichlids feed from the water column and some have even evolved to spend their entire existence upside down in order to monopolise the underside of vast subterranean slabs.
The only time prior to diving Lake Malawi that I had witnessed mouthbreeders was on the big screen when watching Finding Nemo. In the Lake, I couldn’t go on a dive without seeing it several times. I don’t think anyone could get bored of viewing this instinctual phenomenon. Females lay their eggs and then scoop them in their mouths for protection, where they are fertilised and born. Once on safe ground, they will release their brood of up to 100 and keep a watchful eye for predators whilst they feed and the young take their first tentative fins. If they feel threatened they swim up to the brood, open their mouths, and in two or three sweeps all the young form a tight clump and swim into their mothers beckoning mouth. Nearby the male will be tidying his crater in order to attract another egg laying female to it. The mating craters can occupy any area of fine sand, are built mouthful by mouthful, can reach up to 1 metre deep and are individually shaped into perfect concentric forms.
The unique diving experiences don’t stop when the sun goes down. Aqua Africa in Nkhata Bay, a longstanding Dive School with a great reputation for high teaching and safety standards, has built up an exceptional relationship with the nocturnal predators of the Lake. The resident Dolphin fish have learnt to utilize the regular night divers by using their torchlight to make their hunts more effective. I was fortunate enough to join them.
Leaving the Aqua Africa jetty at sundown, we leisurely motored the 5 minutes to ‘Playground Point’, situated off the end of the peninsula that splits the bay in two. The shrill of cicadas on land, being strangely complemented by the cacophony of dubious African pop filtering from various drinking dens in town. Replacing the sounds of dusk with the sounds of bubbles, we followed the anchor line to a large sandy patch surrounded by red rocks. As if on cue, 10 to 12 Dolphin fish with no sense of personal space were ducking and diving between us, seemingly revving themselves up at the promise of a good feed. Dolphin fish certainly aren’t the most beautiful of creatures, with their name being somewhat a misnomer. If it had been my decision, I’d have probably settled on ‘Eel-like-ugly Fish’ instead of naming them after the most graceful and intelligent of marine mammals. Reaching up to a metre in length with small eyes and a snarly snout, the Dolphin Fish rely heavily on electric sensors to track their prey, unless of course there is a torch-wielding diver at hand. Following the dive group like a pack of hungry dogs for the entire forty minutes, the predators would sidle up to any unfortunate Cichlid mesmerised by the artificial light. Arching their spines in preparation for a quick lunge and snap before audibly clamping their jaws on dinner.
Once you get bored of, or are feeling guilty about playing god, there are plenty more night diving delights to watch out for. The elusive Kampango catfish with its shark like dorsal fin often makes an appearance, as do a multitude of fresh water crabs scavenging the floor for any morsel they can find. Wiser Cichlids shelter in the deep cracks of imposing boulders and tiny freshwater shrimp in shallower fissures. Back at the sandy patch for our safety stop, the red larvae of Lake flies are drawn in multitudes to our beams and bounce off glass as they try to edge closer to the bulb. And then we turn our torches off. Silence but for our breaths, as we stare at the clean night sky from 5 metres down.
Kate, manager and one of the resident PADI instructors at Aqua Africa, becomes coy when later over a cold beer I relay the complements that I’d heard about the great level of instruction at her Dive school. She explains that a lot of it has to do with the Lake itself. I figure that she is being a little too modest, but can certainly see her point about the conditions. With no saltwater to irritate your eyes or dry your mouth, minimal current, little surge and decent visibility, Lake Malawi is an entry-level divers dream. A perfect environment to hone diving skills before heading to spectacular higher-octane dive sites in the less predictable and unforgiving waters of the nearby Indian Ocean. With a floor of rock and sand, students with buoyancy issues can lay their fins or bums on the lake floor without fear of destroying a swathe of coral or being stung by any anti-social organisms. Most clientele are backpackers, attracted to the cheap Open Water courses and the laid back lifestyle of dusty Nkhata Bay.
Diving in the North of the Lake isn’t as seasonal as in the South. As it is sheltered by a natural harbour, there is usually protection from the easterly August winds. Tropical rains usually start by mid-November and continue with a range of intensity till April, though never enough to stop a dive!
Lake Malawi has made me re-evaluate Freshwater diving. Enough to get me back in that quarry? I don’t think so! But I’ve heard the Cenotes in Mexico are nice this time of year.
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