The curious case of the Mafia Islands

It is a well-known fact that the Indian Ocean is home to some serious big hitters when it comes to tropical islands. The Maldives, Mauritius and Seychelles are as famous as they are beautiful, and let’s not forget about exotic old Zanzibar.

However, if you asked me if I could chose any island to go to in the Indian Ocean (and yes, I’ve  stayed on all of the above) then I would chose the Mafia Islands.

Every. Single. Time.

Why?

Well, for a start, have you heard of the Mafia Islands? Hmmm?

Precisely.

However, aside from the fact that few have heard of them (and even fewer have been) there are a number of reasons as to why I’d chose Mafia over the big guns.

And equally, there are also reasons as to why many people avoid them.

And so, to settle this case I suggest we look at both sides of the argument mi ‘Lord (oooh, I’ve gone all courtroom drama – hand me a wig). Once I’ve presented my case, I think its going to be a unanimous verdict.   

Court in session? Well, let’s begin!

The Mafia Archipelago - Italian or not Italian?

First, it is important to clarify that these little islands are nowhere near Sicily and nothing to do with that jolly extended Italian family. No, this little known archipelago lies 100km south-east off the coast of Dar es Salaam. Approach by light aircraft and you see all the islands stretched out in front of you - Mafia, Jibondo, Juani, Chole and Bwejuu. There are no towns, just a number of villages tucked into thick green vegetation. Mangrove forest dips into pale blue waters where there are always a smattering of white-sailed dhows bobbing about.

Right! This is where I stop with the pretty brochure descriptions. I could bang on forever about the swaying coconut palms and coral atolls in turquoise seas but to be honest, you can read that in any old holiday magazine. No, instead I’m giving a VERY precise list as to why I like the Mafia Islands (and to why others don’t). So pay attention, because yes, as the jury you will be asked to come to a verdict at the end, and no, I’m not going to repeat myself.

Twenty years and only two changes   

While half of the time I can’t remember what I did last week, I can remember extremely clearly living on Zanzibar 20 years ago. Mostly because I was writing the Bradt guide-book to it, and so had to pay pretty close attention to the detail.

However, on returning recently it appears that Zanzibar’s beauty has come at a price. Seaweed farms have made way for hotels, the small wooden airport hut is now a glittering terminal, and tiny spice farms have turned to commercialized tours. Don’t’ get me wrong, it is still exotic and exciting, but some of the change is overwhelming.

Mafia arrivals hall

After a 20 year absence however, Mafia has seen precisely two changes. The first is a tar road in place of a dirt one from Kilindoni to Utende. And the second, the arrival of a couple (ie two) tiny new lodges. Villages, not hotels, sit under palms at the back of beaches, mango and baobab trees remain uncut and offshore dhows, not jet-skis rule the waters.

Staying on Mafia you are far from a tourist’s playground. There are no ‘island experience’ excursions and certainly no shops selling suspiciously-farmed sponges. Yes of course you can go on a snorkel trip but the boat is a creaking old dhow with a gigantic whalloping sail.

Catch the breeze and the whole thing tips fantastically to one side. The toothless skipper will howl with laughter, kids whoop with delight (whilst hanging on to the rigging for dear life) and any and all clobber you’ve brought on board with you is instantly redistributed about the floor of the boat. Personally I find crawling around a deck looking for an AWOL snorkel mask entertaining, but it’s not for everyone.

Likewise, exploring the inland you cannot zoom along a curated path on a golf-cart. For a start you’d hit a pothole and be in a ditch in seconds, and secondly, everybody would look at you like you’ve gone nuts. Instead,(dressed appropriately) you can walk along well-worn footpaths under papaya trees in and around the villages. Politely say hello, carefully avoid the chicken at your feet and buy a mango or two (if in season). Everyday life is un-cut and un-curated. And honestly? That suits me just fine.

The nitty gritty of sand between your toes

Right, lets get down to the nitty gritty shall we? Cornerstone of any tropical holiday is of course, the beach.

And, the Mafia Islands do not have Zanzibar’s endless miles of white sandy beaches.

BOOM. Guilty as charged.  

And this is why so many, oh so many people stop right here, turn the page and look at Mauritius instead (actually, a huge number of beaches on Mauritius are man-made, but ask me about that another day).

BUT, whilst Mafia doesn’t have endless white beaches it does have its fair share of them. They are just tucked into the mangrove forest. 

Take Butiama Beach for example. Walk south and you can go for miles and see nothing but footprints of birds and washed up cowry shells. Walk north and you soon potter into the village beach where there is a pretty much constant tok-tok of fisherman mending their dhows.

If its perfect peace that you’re after though, then when low tide comes around, sail out to a sandbank. As the sea falls away these silver strips of sand are the perfect place to swim, snorkel and generally spend an idyllic few hours - with a lot of suncream.

Now - lets talk about the mangrove, which covers the majority of Mafia’s coastline. Whilst many see this as a disadvantage, it is actually where the real magic lies.

Certainly its spiky routes do not make for conducive walking without flip flops (in fact tread on a mango root sticking out of the sand and you’ll wish you’d trod on a piece of Lego instead) but the foliage is a haven for seabirds and branching root system a crucial rich environment for young fish. Mafia has some of East Africa’s most prolific marine life. And integral to this, are the wonderful miles of mangrove.

A turtle or two-hundred

And now I get to talk about Mafia’s jewel in the crown, its marine life. With large swathes of the waters protected by a marine park there is no doubt that Mafia offers some of the best snorkeling and diving in the Indian Ocean (I don't want to be mean to the other islands but Mafia's reef's are basically light-years ahead of them. Or perhaps behind actually?).

Coral is huge, unbleached and diverse and you can choose from a number of reefs, none of which you're going to find other dive-boats on.

Fish abound. Whether you’re after potato groupers or clownfish you'll find reefs full of them, plus a lot more besides. If its big fish you're after then visit between November and February and is a whale shark big enough for you? Or if babies are your thing then from June to November watch hawksbill turtles hatching (under the watchful eye of the Sea Sense conservation project) on the remote eastern beach of Juani.

Some exciting hotel statistics!

Even though Mafia Island is 49km long and 17km wide I can count the total number of hotels on Mafia on one hand. Phew, nice and easy. And, of those hotels, I need no more than two hands and one foot to count the total number of rooms that even the largest lodge has (bit more complicated).

But, if you’ve kept up, the point is that all the lodges on Mafia are tiny.  Literally the last thing you are going to be doing on arrival is wandering around, hot and sweaty, thinking, ‘where on earth is bloody room 623’.  Instead a lodge manager will greet you with a tropical drink and warm flannel (for the dust on your face) and lead you precisely two minutes down a sand path to your little cottage. (Don’t forget to look in the leaves of the tropical plants lining the paths as you often find miniature frogs hiding).  

If you stay at Butiama on the east side of the island you’ll have a cottage open to the sea breeze, a hammock and one of the islands most stunning beaches at your feet. On the west you’ll find the little lodges of Pole Pole, Kinasi and Chole Mjini whose rooms are built in the branches of flamboyant and baobab trees (cool!).  

Whilst none of these lodges have tennis courts, gyms or giant spas look up into the sky at dusk and you will encounter the best supplement-free spectacle. First comes one, then a dozen and soon the sky is filled with fuzzy-faced fruit bats. Leaving their roost on Chole Island as the sun sets they swoop across the channel to feed on Mafia. Hundreds of dark flapping wings ushering in the night and stars.

Which are, of course, brilliant, as there isn’t a speck of light pollution.

Guilty as charged

And so the islands are a place that some would see as having so little. One tar road, too few beaches, not enough facilities, no real shops, no direct flights and an airport that has precisely one luggage handler who doubles up as the landing signal officer.

The annual Tourism Board get-together

But does this matter? Mafia is happy minding its own business, lying quietly in the Indian Ocean. It’s a place where the dive master knows the doctor, the boat skipper the turtle researcher, and absolutely everyone knows the members of the tourist board (they give the best parties). It has got a laid back vibe, a friendly charm and frankly I challenge anyone to come across and unwelcoming islander.

I once, twenty years ago, (as my room had no lock and only half a wall) asked if crime was an issue on the island?

‘Oh no’ said my host Massimo. ‘The crime rate is zero. Theft is of course not a problem. If something went missing we’d simply go into the village and ask who did it’.

I don’t think that has changed either in twenty years.

Mafia. It’s the place for me.

I rest my case.