 He’s not a big shark. Just under 2m
long, like me, but not as bulky – your average grey reef
shark, really. Ordinarily I wouldn’t give him a second glance,
other than to admire the streamlined perfection of his form.
He’s been circling for a while, getting closer steadily, but
still this is not unusual behavior. However, as I watch with
growing concern, he begins to swim in short, erratic bursts,
then suddenly turns straight towards me, arches his back,
drops his pectoral fins almost vertically down and rushes me.
It’s classic posturing, and it means: “I don’t like you being
here, I want you out of my territory. Now!”
It’s over in a blink of my eyes, as he veers off a few metres
in front of me and circles back to his original position. If I
were to ignore his warning and stick around, he would do the
same thing perhaps once or twice more, then finally lose his
temper and bite me. But one warning is all I need. I know
who’s boss in the marine world, and I withdraw from his patch
of reef with impressive alacrity, dragging my buddy with me.
 I’m diving in a remote
atoll in the northern Marshall Islands, one that until 2002
had never seen scuba divers, and has seen precious few since.
So let’s consider the shark’s point of view. He’s probably
never encountered a scuba diver before, and thus there is no
preconditioned acceptance of us large, clumsy, noisy intruders
that is common in other Pacific shark-diving hotspots like
Palau’s Blue Corner or Bora Bora in French Polynesia. To him
I’m an unknown threat, both personally and as a potential
competitor for food. No wonder he’s upset.
The history I have flown halfway across the
Pacific for exciting dive experiences just like this one, plus
many more. Most dive enthusiasts who regularly travel to
Asia’s long list of dive destinations harbour a dream to dive
a hidden paradise where no one has been before, to be the
first to explore an untouched underwater location: to be a
true dive pioneer. With the blooming of diving’s popularity
over the last 15 years, however, this will remain a dream for
the majority. Dive operators have explored and set up dive
resorts or liveaboard trips in nearly all realistically
accessible locations in the Asia Pacific region.
But not all. The name Rongelap Atoll will likely mean nothing
to you – but how about Bikini Atoll? Also part of the Marshall
Islands, this was the site for the infamous Bravo atom bomb
test by the US in 1954. The fallout from that – and subsequent
– explosions drifted southeast 100km to the Rongelap atoll
group, and its small population of islanders were evacuated.
They were erroneously allowed to return long before radiation
levels were safe, and were taken off again in 1985, and it was
only in the summer of 2002 that the region was finally
declared completely safe (radiation readings are now no higher
than the average city airport).
Since then, the Rongelap Atoll Local Government (RalGov),
based in Majuro, has worked to rebuild a low-level
infrastructure ready for any islanders who wish to return.
They also realised that they had a rare opportunity to use
what is essentially an untouched marine environment.
Paradoxically, the enforced isolation of these atolls due to
the devastating effects of Bravo has resulted in the
preservation of immaculate atoll reef ecosystems. (After
scientific surveys by the government of the Marshall Islands
and the University of Hawaii, it has been proposed that
uninhabited Ailinginae Atoll, 32km southwest of Rongelap, is
ideal for nomination for UNESCO World Heritage listing.)
RalGov thought its options through, and decided that a small,
exclusive resort carefully following environmentally friendly
principals was the way to develop tourism here. The resort is
still being built, and is scheduled to be operational later
this year. But more swiftly implemented was the idea to begin
luxury liveaboard dive trips around the atoll – and over to
Ailinginae when the weather allows.
 Last year, the MV Oleanda, a 40m
luxury liveaboard boat previously stationed in Tonga, was
bought, refurbished and sailed up to Rongelap, along with some
of its previous Tongan crew, and Wayne and Jenni Fox, the
Oleanda’s expedition director and marine naturalist
respectively. The boat offers a range of multi-day dive and
eco-cruises, but the most tantalising is the week-long
Exploratory Dive Expedition.
The diving
In a shallow sweep of a bay the Oleanda moors – one of five
fixed mooring sites in the lagoon. The dive is a simple one –
“just to get your lungs wet,” as Wayne says. A short ride in
the boat tender – a 7m skiff used to ferry divers to sites the
liveaboard cannot access – brings us to a marked buoy; a roll
backwards and the underwater world opens up beneath us.
My first sight is an apt one, the perfect precursor to the
week’s diving: a 1.5m grey reef shark carves a sinuous path
through the water around me. This healthy specimen is
obviously curious but very wary. She keeps her distance but
shadows my buddy and I for 10mins before disappearing into the
blue.
 We circle the dive site, a coral
bommie rising to 5m below the surface and covered with a range
of healthy hard corals. Dense thickets of staghorn coral
surround the bommie’s base – a protective home for juvenile
reef fishes. The diversity of marine life and lack of damage
illustrate this area’s pristine nature, and as if to punctuate
this point, scattered around the bommie we find giant clams (tridacna
gigantea) larger than any I have ever seen, a metre long with
shells gaping and vivid mantles bulging. The presence of these
super-molluscs, which have been wiped out in so many Pacific
islands, bodes well for this ecosystem – and our coming week
of diving.
Although the Oleanda crew have explored Rongelap extensively
to find the best possible dive sites, its sheer size dictates
that innumerable tracts of reef and lagoon areas remain
undived. Herein lies this trip’s great attraction: genuine
exploratory diving. Even a long-time dive enthusiast with
hundreds of logged hours underwater can’t stop the flutter of
excitement that tickles the diaphragm as you check your gear
and prepare to enter the water. What might be down there?
Undercuts and caves hiding sleeping sharks? A glorious coral
garden? An old ship wrecked against the coral head?
Way out in the lagoon we visit a lone coral head – there are a
few of these marked on the charts, but none has ever been
dived, and Wayne is interested to see what surprises they may
be hiding. As virgin dive territory, we will explore the
bommie, note any unusual physical or organic characteristics
of the site, and decide on its rating for future dive groups.
We will also have the honour of deciding a name for the
location – if we can agree on one. I sight a small group of
chevron barracuda as I descend, then a few grey reef sharks .
. . an eagle ray at a distance . . . a frightened, almost pure
white porcupinefish . . . and many enormous giant clams. Other
than the clams, however, nothing stays with me for long,
prompting my candidate for site name: Brief Encounter.
The Oleanda settles into its itinerary, sailing in a zig-zag
fashion anticlockwise around the lagoon. We alternate between
lagoon dives, ocean-side wall dives on the outer reef and
diving through the channels, or passes, that flush water in
and out of the lagoon with the tides. As is generally the case
in tropical waters, if you want to see major fish action and a
full bloom of vibrant coral growth, then the outer reef, and
in particular the passes, are where you want to be. Here the
reef is at its prodigious best, and consequently the fish
action most dramatic.
Small Boat Passage is an impressive pass, narrow and shallow,
resulting in ripping currents. A sandy bowl at the mouth of
the pass has been named The Aquarium – for obvious reasons.
The plethora of fish species includes a nursery of baby reef
sharks, though there are plenty of well-fed “mothers” as well.
Letting the current take us, we fly past steeply sloping walls
festooned with hard corals, anemones, sea cucumbers . . . the
list goes on. Swimming with us are blacktip, whitetip and grey
reef sharks, eagle rays, napoleonfish, green turtles, schools
of blue trevally and midnight snapper. It’s a real treat, and
everyone is all smiles and stories upon exiting the water
West Pass offers the same – and more, since it’s the only
channel on the entire western reef. Before we’ve even
backrolled into the water on the outer reef wall we can see
the silvery shadows of a dozen or more reef sharks under the
boat, curious as cats, completely unaware of the bulky aliens
about to crash in on their world from above. Here the sheer
volume and force of the current has undercut the walls of the
pass, creating ledges, caves and swim-throughs where we find a
sleeping tawny nurse shark, turtles galore and huge columns of
circling silverjacks. It’s awesome diving, equalled to my
knowledge only by Papua New Guinea’s spectacular waterscapes.
The southern stretch of the atoll has many small islands and
channels. We base ourselves in an idyllic sheltered bay at
Tufa Island, where we moor for three nights, and dive the
outer reef wall at known hotspots as well as virgin areas. The
western tip of Rongelap Island itself, at a dive site called
Rongelap Point or South Pass, has some of the richest and most
diverse reef growth I have ever seen. Wayne tells me that this
section of the reef is identical to the reefs of Ailinginae
Atoll, and I understand why the idea of creating first a
National Marine Park, then applying for World Heritage status,
is such an appropriate one.
The diving has lived up to expectations, but what I hadn’t
expected is the level of luxury and quality of service on
board Oleanda. Certainly you expect to be well looked after on
this type of trip, but throughout the whole week we have been
overwhelmed by the smiles and impeccable service of the crew.
Food of a quality usually reserved for five-star restaurants
has left me with pounds to lose when I return home. At least
my reserves are full for the long journey back to Hong Kong.
Getting there
To be a pioneer diver you need to go to a remote location:
the journey to Rongelap takes two days by any route.
Continental Airlines flies to Majuro from Guam on Mon/Wed/Fri,
returning on Tue/Thur/Sat. This is an island hopper that stops
at Chuuk, Pohnpei, Kosrae and Kwajalein Atoll before Majuro.
It’s a long flight, and perhaps a better (and no less
expensive) route is to fly to Hawaii, overnight in Honolulu,
then fly down to Majuro with either Continental or Aloha
Airlines. Whichever route you take, you must overnight in
Majuro before flying on to Rongelap with Air Marshall Islands
(AMI).
Expedition costs
The seven-night/eight-day Exploratory Dive Package costs
US$1,100–1,700 depending on your cabin on the Oleanda. This
price is inclusive of all airport transfers, one night’s
accommodation at the Marshall Islands Resort in Majuro, and
everything you need while on board the boat (except alcoholic
drinks). Rongelap Expeditions will also book your AMI ticket
for you.
When to go
The best season for diving is June to October, when the sea
is generally flat calm and all sites (and Ailinginae) can be
accessed. Diving is possible year-round, but northeasterly
trade winds early in the year bring swells and blustery
conditions that can limit site access. Remember to bring
plenty of sunscreen, sunglasses and a good hat.
Websites
www.rongelapexpeditions.com
www.visitrongelap.com
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