Rajshekhar Chandola is sad.
Why?
Because Asha is sad and disillusioned.
Why the 3-year sibling of a Malaysian accountant working for Sohar Aluminimum is sad?
Because the promised dolphin did not show up apparently on the Indian Ocean off the Muscat coast.
We – Raj, the walking encycleopaedia from Lucknow; Jasper Daniel, the bearded creative head from ‘Bangalored’ – India’s silicon city; Rajesh Burman, our photographer colleague, and self – were mentally prepared when we set up on a hot summer Friday morning for a ride into the sea in the glass-bottomed boat from Marina Bander near Al Bustan Hotel in Muscat, Oman.
Because, we have been forewarned. Gulf Leisure Boat in charge Rashad Al Wahabi did not mince words as we climbed into the 22-seater top-covered motorboat: ‘There is no guarantee that we will see dolphins. We will try our best to locate spots and take you there, though.” Jas jokingly told the plumpy Omani guide – speaking decent English - to send an SMS to the dolphins. “Why not?” quipped Rashad much to our delight.
The cute little Asha with her elder brother – may be 4 years – accompanied by parents were in the same boat as it moved away from the jetty on the Friday morning under the blazing sun. She kept muttering, ‘dolphin, dolphin’. Bro was equally in fine spirits.
Captain Saif Al Wahabi, bearded and in white shirts and a ‘Gulf Leisure’ emblazoned collarless T-short beautifully took out the water chariot on to the sea, as Rashad began briefing on how to wear the life-jacket in emergencies. I paid a lot of attention as I had rough experience on air and road in the recent past. Water experience was the only missing element. Did it happen? You bet, it did. Wait for details.
The journey was smooth with Rajesh happily clicking from the speeding boat anything that captured his imagination. Both Rajesh and self were on an assignment for a Cover Story on whether Oman is ready and adequately equipped to handle the 2-day weekend being introduced by the private sector.
Half an hour into the 3-hour long ride on calm sea, Rashad shouted: ‘There… There…’. All of us began scanning the inky blue ocean surface for signs of the dolphin. Honestly, I did not see. “Where’s it, Rashad?” I quipped. ‘There….’ I turned around to check out with Raj and Jas. They also did not spot anything. Little Asha and her bro were curiously scouting the horizon. Another assistant, who joined Gulf Leisure just 48 hours ago and speaking Hindi, suddenly tut-tutted: ‘oh, oh.. it just vanished’. Meanwhile, the captain was navigating the boat into a circle formation to spot dolphins again. But in vain. Asha began to cry again.
Raj and Jas were closely watching the children on the lower deck while Rajesh was busy clicking photos on the upper open deck. ‘Did you see it?” I shouted at Rajesh to receive a negative reply.
A few minutes later, Rashad alerted to another sighting of dolphins. We did see some movement of black and white combo. Still unsure whether it was a dolphin or we were mistaking the little wave/tide for the elusive dolphin. The problem was our preconceived notions. Most of us have seen on celluloid the dolphin shows in the United States and Europe where dolphins dance, jump through a ring, kiss the coach and do everything. You see the dolphins in full flight, so to say. We have also seen the visitors in the auditorium going into delirium on the intelligent water creature’s actions.
But that was not to be the case on this Friday morning on the Indian Ocean. Dolphins were not in a mood to show up and perform for us. Or, if they did, it was not in that pre-conceived format. Jas wondered whether Rashad was fooling us. ‘Look, the 3-hour ride is the actual thing. If dolphins come up to show, it is a bonus,” I told them.
Contrary to our fear that we may get muggy due to hot and simmering sun, the ride was pleasant. The speeding boat kept on sprinkling sea water like a mild shower as it raced at a decent speed and the wind was equally cool. Yes, each one of took turns to stand at the astern to get fully drenched.
With Rashad and company knowing our media background and on an assignment they treated us royalty. We felt like we were on a private yacht. Soft drinks and candies were on tap constantly. His frequent alerts of dolphins were taken with a pinch of salt. Asha, meanwhile, had gone into sulking. Forget about dolphins, not even fishes which she had eagerly come to see, obliged her. Parents kept cheering her up by showing the water under the boat through the glass bottom.
Jas was getting excited. He was mentally prepared for the promised snorkeling. Rashad reminded us that we would stop for 45-minutes of snorkeling towards the end. Raj kept shuffling between the two decks with Jas in tow, while I was directing Rajesh to shoot this and shoot that. Actually, there was no need to tell Rajesh. He knows his job. Yet, I needed excellent images and want to utilize the ace cameraman to the maximum. Rajesh was not eager about snorkeling as we left home around 7.30 a.m. ‘There will be a lot of crowd and women …. How can I undress?’ was his concern. But I knew he would.
Rashad quietly showed up behind me and pointed to a boat bobbing on the sea at the distance. “We are going towards that boat. These boats stay put for fishing where they have spotted them. If fishes are there, dolphins are bound to be there.’ Asha’s bespectacled father gave a short synopsis of this good message to her in some indecipherable language while her mother repeated the same in English. ‘You know, she understands English,’ she told me as I queried.
All of us moved to one side of the boat to take a close look at the distant boat and the boat began to tilt onto one side dangeroulsy. Rashid advised us to spread ourselves on both sides so that the boat does not turn turtle!
However, disappointment was in store as there were no dolphins in sight. We moved away. Suddenly, Rashad began shouting: ‘There…. There. See there, two huge tortoises.’ Rajesh shouted back from the upper deck: “Yeah. I got it. They are mating. They are making love on high seas!’ Wow. If not dolphins, at least we had tortoise ‘performing’ for us. In no time, they vanished into deep waters, never to be seen again. Some solace. Some compensation.
Then we spotted a cargo vessel moving close by. It was first time, I saw a moving ship with containers in real life. I requested Rashad to circle the moving ship. Then I realized that it would not be possible because it was moving fast. I have seen several times moving ships from the air from the window seat of Oman Air/Gulf Air and Indian Airlines. They were just toys from above and the only indication that they were in motion was the white foam they were forming and leaving behind as they moved ahead.
‘Get ready for snorkeling,’ said Rashad. We realized that almost 90 minutes had passed since we left the shores. Despite disillusioned with dolphins’ ‘no-show’, we roamed around the waters to witness the Mattrah Fort, the Mirani Fort, caught up with a dozen fishermen anchored for fishing and speeding ones as well. Also glimpsed several motor boats carrying foreign visitors enjoying the May summer on the Oman’s seas.
Jas was the first one to equip himself with the snorkeling kit. The entire crew assisted each one of us personally to get into the gear. Even Rajesh relented and readied. With one condition that he would not be bare-bodied and he would wear his white vest. Of course, life jacket. Asha’s 38-year old father, an adept swimmer, jumped into the water non-chalantly and began stroking.
And Jas, from our side. Raj followed. And then Rajesh. I was the last to climb into the water. It was warm and transparent. We could see the sea bed at 3 metres below. Some rocky formation we could detect. However, we were unable to go down and touch the seabed thanks to the life jacket that kept us afloat on the surface of the water.
I began plying my hands and feet to gain movement. Moved away from the boat and steered towards the other side. I quietly caught up with Jas holding onto a round hole on the boat side. He was feeling uneasy, saying he had swallowed salty sea water in large doses. Empty stomach and the late night party the previous day at a colleague’s home added to his discomfiture. He quietly returned to the boat, ably assisted by the crew, never to return to the water during this trip.
Meanwhile, Raj and Rajesh hung on to the rope thrown at them and enjoying themselves. While Asha with her mother in tow remained on boat, her dad and bro splashed in the water. Bro was enjoying to the hilt and her mother was happily clicking photos to carry home. Soon, I saw Raj climbing back into the boat. Yes, he again swallowed sea water and felt giddy. He also got himself cut and bruised at several places. The crew was trying to apply ice cubes to stop the bleeding.
I had my own bit of trouble. I lost breathe and clung onto the sides of the boat for a while. Assisted by the crew again, I returned to the boat. Once on board, I realized that I had cut myself at several places and was bleeding profusely. Rashad and the Captain came rushing to wash up my wounds and tried to stop bleeding. But to no avail.
Like Raj, I had swum close to the hull of the boat and in the excitement got myself spliced by the rear engine blades. Added to that was the rough exterior of the boat that had bruised me badly. My only worry was that the blood should not alert sharks if there were in the vicinity! Then I will be a dead meat sooner than later. Luckily, the Oman coast is dolphin-friendly and not shark-infested.
I was in deep pain and consoled myself saying that I am unlikely to come for another ride in the near future. What’s happened has happened. Just get going. Again I jumped into the water to join Rajesh who hung onto the rubber tube tied through a rope to the boat. I caught hold of another thick rope and remained in water until the captain reminded that it was time to return.
Having removed the goggles and breathing apparatus, I remained floating on my back basking in the bright sunshine. Rajesh was the last swimmer to emerge out of water! What an irony? The man who said he would not jump into water, spent a lot of time on water and the other guy – Jas – who wanted to snorkel to his heart’s content could not.
Once on board, I noticed the deep cuts and bruises. I was still bleeding. The colour of blood was fascinating. It raced down from belly, thighs and knees like small streams. A month ago, Zack (my one and half year old Lhasa Apso) had expressed its displeasure while being treated for some ailment by leaving its claw marks all over my body. They just vanished now to be replaced by the Oman’s water marks!
The reason for those marks were pretty well known to my wife and daughter: dog-created. Now these deep cuts and bruises happened in Oman. Away from their eyes. Have I been mauled by someone in the course of some physical violence! My conscience is clear. I won’t be surprised if my family were to nurse doubts!
By the time, the clock stuck 12 noon, we were back on the shore. Did we see dolphins? Yes and no. But Asha did not, definitely. She kept on crying. I told her to go home and watch some DVD. Raj was sad, no doubt over Asha’s disappointment.
On the road back home, I SMS-ed family and friends:
‘WENT TO SE(A) DOLPHIN AT PLAY. INSTEAD GLIMPSED PASSIONATE LOVE MAKING OF TORTOISES ON HIGH SEA.
MORAL: TARGETS ARE MEANINGLESS!
Life is full of compromises, no?
Jamalludin abruptly stopped his cab on the kerb 100 metres after he took me on outside Tusit Thani, the Thai specialty five-star hotel, on Sheikh Zayed Road on Tuesday night. What happened? He downed my side window and began asking directions to Jumeira from a fellow-cabbie. He got his response in English and flashed an apologetic smile. Immediately, I knew I am being taken for a ‘ride’ because the lean and emaciated looking Pakistani cabbie is new to Dubai and has no clue to the locations except Zayed Road! After a few minutes, he stopped near another cab near DIFC and got out. From his gestures, I could make out that he met his soul mate. I downed windows to hear his convesations. The two cabbies were speaking in an unrecognizable language – which I later understood to be Pashtu. My cabbie is from Peshawar.
