The eyes are small, dark and disturbingly empty. Even more disturbing, at least eight pairs attached to 10-foot torpedo bodies float past my floor-length swimsuit in a catalog shot that would make women pale.
Half the circling fins would tell an ashen-haired Roy Scheider in Jaws the need for a bigger boat.
And yet here I am swimming in the Indian Ocean with a shower of sharks. So much for my husband who claims that there was nothing to do in the Maldives except hang around in flowy clothes all day.
When you think of this archipelago, certain prejudices come to mind. But besides the honeymoon toast and celebrity swagger, I think it can also be action-packed and perfect for families. We split our stay between two island resorts to maximize this unique experience, because trust me, it doesn’t come cheap.
From the moment we land at the Anantara Dhigu Resort pier and the deep sound of a Boduberu drum announces our arrival as if we were royalty, it’s clear that this Bikini Atoll is teeming with life.
Fiona Hardcastle takes her family on a trip to the Maldives and discovers that it can be “action-packed and perfect for families”. Seen above is Anantara Dhigu, one of the resorts the family visits
Fiona says it’s only a 10-minute walk to the Anantara Dhigu Resort, which consists of 110 beach villas and overwater suites.
“Welcome to Dhigu,” smiles Lamya, head of our welcoming committee, and gives us coconut water for the shortest buggy ride to our new home. A compact resort consisting of 110 beach villas and overwater suites. You can walk from one end of the island to the other in ten minutes, but the environment charms me. Palm trees guard the softest white sand. The sea is a collage of blinding blue. In the distance, white tablecloths flutter in the evening breeze as guests walk barefoot to the grandest barbecue ever hosted on a beach. It makes me want to start. Others are too.
“Can we go fishing?” asked Felix, 11, eager to catch his first Whopper.
“Can we go surfing?” asked Evie (16), eager to catch her first wave.
“Can we see Crazy Rich Asians?” asks 17-year-old Rose, who really wants to see her favorite movie on the 6-foot-tall screen further down the sand.
Yes, yes and yes, my children. But first things first. Take off your clothes, put on your stockings and I’ll race you into the sea. There are few pleasures like immersing winter tights in warm equatorial waters, and as we swim towards the Instagram Hammock – a beautiful structure of driftwood and rope rising from the shallows – all thoughts of cold Britain fade away.
Back to our neighboring beach villas—stylish low-rises that hug the coastline and exude emanated luxury—and a homecoming with Homeric intentions. The beds are a vision of coconut calligraphy, written palms wishing us a wonderful stay. There is a free bottle of sparkling wine on ice. The outdoor pool is filled with rose petals.
“I feel like a goddess,” sighed Felix, pulling on a fluffy terry dressing gown. We laugh, but I know exactly what he means.
The burning question as we sit by the water and dine on freshly caught grouper with delicious Maldivian chilli sauce is which excursion we will take first. We decide to strap on a snorkel and dare to stare into the eyes of a nurse shark.
The marine biologist who accompanies us on the forty-minute journey to the sharks’ home base on the seabed assures us that they are harmless, but after a few heartbeats I get back on board. Not so the others.
All smiles: Fiona and her family enjoying their stay at Anantara Dhigu
“Take lots of pictures, Mom!” screamed Evie as she tossed her hair back and forth, treading water with a dozen of these supposedly peaceful creatures.
During the boat ride back, the kids agree that it’s the most exciting thing they’ve ever done. There are advantages to never having seen Spielberg’s sea horror.
Other excursions prove equally memorable. On a fishing trip, the vegetarians among us are over their flair – the only thing I catch is coral, which I hastily throw back – while the kids master their balance during surfing lessons, leaving my husband and I on our boards on the beach.
“Can we move here, Mom?” Three faces beamed, excited about their newfound skills.
I promise nothing until I’m lying face down on a massage table with a mesmerizing view of the turquoise sea. In fact, ask me again for a perfectly mixed cocktail with another perfect sunset.
We hold back tears as we say goodbye on the jetty. Felix, the new owner of a hand-woven coconut tree hat, hugs everyone as if they were lifelong friends. That they will always be remembered by us.
Can our second trip to the Maldives even come close? An exciting seaplane flight to Niyama, another private island resort located an hour’s flight from Male, and we are off to an exciting start.
Fiona took an “exhilarating seaplane flight to Niyama,” another private island resort
Fiona stays in an overwater pavilion room with an infinity pool and hot tub, as pictured
Above, musicians play boduberu drums and dance on the beach at Niyama Resort
“This plane! This plane!’ exclaims my husband, recalling his ’70s childhood and the TV series “Fantasy Island,” in which every guest’s dream comes true during their tropical stay—albeit with unexpected twists.
The first thing we discover is that we have our own butler, Imthi, who will take us everywhere in his buggy.
He begins with a tour of the island as he makes his way through the sandy paths that cross the central jungle and house the 134 villas.
The second surprise is our room: a huge pavilion over the water.
“I’ve been to smaller cathedrals,” I said, looking up at the vaulted ceiling as the children screamed in disbelief as Imthi beamed and covered his ears. “I’ve never seen a bigger TV,” says my husband, a panicked look on his face as he uses the various remote controls.
Given the other distractions at our disposal, we won’t even look at it for a second.
Outside there is an infinity pool, a hot tub and a swing. In a sunken lounge, a bar and a telescope. Even, Lord help us, an electric guitar. Does anyone have a stairway to heaven?
“Welcome to nature’s playground,” reads the handwritten message on the large wall mirror, signed by the gregarious managing director Haf. It’s time to start the party. Because while Dhigu is a family paradise, Niyama is a fast-paced celebration where the only people who stand out from the crowd are those who aren’t wearing Dior slippers.
Close up: Fiona and her family (not pictured) go swimming with nurse sharks – her kids say it’s the ‘most exciting thing they’ve ever done’
Does not matter. Cocktails are a great equalizer, as evidenced by the surf shack, where Haf starts the evening noisily, regaling us with great stories as he slathers us with rum.
“There’ll be a pile of bikes here tomorrow morning,” he says, nodding to a new crowd of guests arriving at the bar on special bikes provided by the resort, but soon to be too drunk to ride back.
When our island Uber drops us off for dinner at Tribal, a lively African restaurant, I feel like we could be somewhere between the Maldives and Mombasa. The menu is an explosion of culinary novelties: ostrich appetizer, warthog stir fry, peanut soup.
My son and I share a filet of dry-aged Wagyu beef and are curious as to what it is all about. “Gourmet,” he explained, closing his eyes in happiness.
Just like everything that comes from the world-class kitchens here. Treetop sushi or a champagne breakfast six meters under the sea?
The only downside is the incredibly expensive wine. The cheapest price is €75 per bottle. “Well, here we are,” my husband said sternly as he faced financial ruin.
It would be easy to while away the days in our own private water palace, but since I want redemption from Sharkgate, I am determined to face another sea creature and not be found wanting. I sure can keep up with a turtle, can’t I?
Our last day on Fantasy Island and an afternoon boat ride with the Dior contingent. But who looks at the tags when dolphins do somersaults on the back of our boat, a spectacle so magical that even the ghostly Russian on board stops to smile at his young son from an angry scream?
In the evening we dance ourselves crazy barefoot in the sand, on an unforgettable night full of reggae, ribs and rum.
With pain in our hearts, we slip back into our non-designer shoes. Niyama? More like Nirvana.
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James is an author and travel journalist who writes for The Fashion Vibes. With a love for exploring new cultures and discovering unique destinations, James brings his readers on a journey with him through his articles.
