We seem to have the Indian Ocean to ourselves. It is late afternoon. We are the only people on the white sand beach, and the sea is a shade of blue that makes me want to use fanciful words like beryl and cerulean. Small hermit crabs scuttle by, giving us a wide berth as they carry off all the best shells washed up with the last tide. A thick wall of tropical green separates the beach from the world. Only two things give away the fact that we are not on a desert island, all evidence to the contrary. My two teens are plugged into their devices, courtesy a phenomenal wi-fi connection at our little guesthouse behind the greenery. And beside us, a big warning sign proclaims that bikinis are prohibited beyond this point. For some reason, the kids think that’s hilarious.
We are on Dhigurah, almost a 100km south of Malé. A speck in the Indian Ocean, the island is about 4km long and so narrow in parts that you can cross from east to west in a leisurely minute. We are here for a diving holiday. It’s just me and the offspring. I’ve been looking forward to getting away with them. As they get bigger and busier, I am only too aware that my time with them is ticking down.
I spent weeks dithering over where to go and where to stay. The reasons for picking this island were two-fold. Dhigurah has a reputation for its proximity to great dive sites, and for being one of the best places for spotting whale sharks. And The Boutique Beach Club (BB), where