The Bedouin sizes me up and introduces me to a large and grumpy looking male camel. His name is Swalem; the Camel that is, not the Bedouin, although Swalem is apparently a traditional Bedouin name.The Bedouin sizes me up and introduces me to a large and grumpy looking male camel. His name is Swalem; the Camel that is, not the Bedouin, although Swalem is apparently a traditional Bedouin name.
Keen to display my proficiency with camels I pull the rains down and make a grunting hissing noise. Swalem condescends to kneel and let me climb on board, all the time maintaining that look of superiority that camels favour humans with. I am impressed with my success, even if Swalem or the Bedouin aren't.
I hook one leg round the front of the saddle. A couple of clicks and a lurch and Swalem is upright and I am a long way off the ground. The average camel is much taller than the average horse, especially when the hump is taken into account.
I had thought maybe a camel diving safari would be a bit of a gimmick, being led along by a rope for a 10 minute camel ride to the dive site. In fact it turns into quite an experience. We had already driven north from Dahab to the Blue Hole, as far as the road goes, watched the Bedouin load our dive gear onto the camels and then walked with them over the hill.
Dive kit clinks behind me in an improvised saddle bag. 2 polyester sacks tied together with scraggy looking rope. Weights, cylinders and everything else with my none too light camera bag on top of the pile. And me. I am amazed that Swalem could even stand up, but he seems used to it, cruising along at what would be a brisk walk for anyone on foot.
As we plod off north along the coast path they let me drive my own camel, or rather they let the camel drive me. Swalem knows who is in charge of this outfit.
45 minutes out and the leading Bedouin indicates the path is too dangerous to stay mounted. I pull the reins tight and do my best at the grunting hissing noise again. After due deliberation Swalem begrudgingly kneels to let me off, his inherent laziness calculating it would be easier to stay up while he is there. The reason for caution soon becomes apparent as we round the point. The track winds tight between rocks with a strong camber and some steep downhill bits.
Whilst unperturbed about carrying me uphill, Swalem is skittish about going downhill. I have to pull to encourage him as he slips and slithers, then once round the corner repeat the grunting hissing sound to climb back aboard.
By the time we reach a second dismount point two divers are getting a little saddle sore and elect to walk for a while. I just relax and go with the flow. I am at one with my camel.
I have always had a soft spot for camels. According to my mum it started when I was little more than a toddler and she took me to the zoo. I saw the camels and from then on whenever an adult used to say the usual toddler things "what a nice little boy, hasn't he grown." I used to reply "I am not a boy, I am a camel." Nowadays I am more likely to be associated with a fish.
Two and a half hours after leaving Dahab the path spreads out onto a wide flat headland. We have arrived at Ras Abu Galum.
There is a small Bedouin village, complete with hut/tent homes, goats, tethered camels and Toyota pickups. You can get here by dirt road through the mountains, but the journey from Dahab would have taken most of the day.
With tourists in mind some wicker shades have been erected along the beach. We pick one close to the point and unload.
A coral lined gully leads out to a sloping reef of hard corals, becoming steeper and almost a wall at 20m. I am ahead of the other divers and stop by a large erg to photograph an octopus. He is remarkably co-operative, just sitting there outside a crack in the coral, not even bothering to shift from his spiky brown camouflage.
The other divers swim past without even noticing him, assuming I am taking pictures of fish. Having finished I try and attract their attention, but the group is heading off along the wall.
I make a point of staying at the top of the wall as I want to concentrate on reef fish, though am tempted by some black corals in the gloom below. There is no shortage of choice, a good variety of butterfly fish, an unusual striped damselfish, puffers, and a shoal of small barracuda. A trio of amberjacks moves purposefully past.
On the way back the octopus is still there. Other divers are already heading for the shore, but our guide Adel is trailing at the back and I manage to attract his attention. I shoot my last couple of pictures. He looks carefully then he points out the octopus's interest in that part of the reef.
One of his arms is trailing under the ledge and linked with another octopus hidden in the crack. I remember a little tit-bit of octopus biology, the third arm on the right doubles as a sex organ. I have been shooting octopus porn without even noticing it.
While we have been diving the Bedouins have prepared lunch. Chicken, potatoes, salad, pitta and rice, and lots of it. The camels seem to enjoy bunches of dry looking thorn bush.
We mount up and head north again. Swalem is a little bit lethargic after lunch, but most divers are also like that. Then a female camel gets in front and he speeds up to sniff her rear. I know a few divers like that as well.
Once he starts nuzzling the female takes exception and trots off, complete with diver. She isn't amused, the diver, or the camel for that matter. A pair of the Bedouins trot off in pursuit, the rest of us proceeding at a more leisurely stroll. In a few hundred metres it is all sorted out and the group reforms.
I chat to the Bedouin riding alongside. A camel can go for 40 days without food or water. The trick is to starve them for 2 days, then let them eat and drink all they want, then off they go. An Asian camel with 2 humps can only go a few days and would not last in Sinai conditions. I couldn't last 40 days without a pint. Maybe as a toddler I should have wanted to be an Asian camel.
Our second dive site is pot luck, a point at random on the now broad coastal plain. Adel has never dived here before. None of the Bedouins have seen any divers stop here before. It's just that we have covered a couple of miles, the entry point looks safe, and the water looks inviting.
We head down a dark grassy slope at 40 degrees. Small avalanches of sand tumble in the wake of our fins.
The south looks more interesting as the slope levels slightly, buttressed and stabilised by scattered pillars of coral. Enormous table corals are each an oasis for dense clouds of fish on the otherwise sandy slope. At 3:30 in the afternoon with a slight chop the sunlight twinkles from above.
It's one of those dives that simply clicks. I feel so focussed with the lighting just right. An excellent find. Back on the shore Adel takes a landmark. 100 metres south of a big square rock with a powder blue stripe.
Whilst it is possible to do multi-day camel diving safaris and camp in the desert, today is just a single day trip from Dahab.
For the journey home the Bedouins switch camels around. I am distraught; Swalem and I were bonding so well. My new mount is another big male called Mabu, apparently another good Bedouin name.
He is lighter in colour and less hairy. One of the Bedouins explains. Swalem is a full blooded Sinai camel, with smaller feet to cope with an uneven rocky terrain and a shaggy coat to cope with the cold found at altitude. Mabu is a half cross with a Sudan camel. Most of their female camels are full blooded Sudan camels. Sudan camels have a shorter lighter coat that traps less heat and bigger feet to cope with soft sand.
Swalem is behind me and bites Mabu's rear. Whilst I am touched by such loyalty, Mabu isn't. The Bedouins switch us round. Mabu gets his own back. The Bedouins separate us, taking Swalem to the front and leaving Mabu with me in the middle of the group.
As we plod home along the narrow coast path I look below into the deep blue water. The shade indicates the wall goes almost straight down from the shoreline. My diver's intuition speculates that anywhere along here would be worth a dive.
Back in Dahab I pat Mabu and Swalem good bye. I could have bought one of them for about £3000 Egyptian, less than £600 UK. Next time you have problems getting all your dive kit through the baggage check in, just think of how much more difficult it would be if you had a camel to take home.