Under the sea

and a recipe for Maldivian tuna curry

Oh you wonderfully, wild blue green grey salty thing.

As we flew over the Indian Ocean in our tiny 12-seat seaplane, I silently whispered those words down to the briny below.

There is something about being close to water, hearing the music of the surf, seeing the gradations of colour—baby blue, azure, indigo—that both calms and excites me. Perhaps it’s the fact that we’re made up of more than 70% water. Is it our nature pulling us towards that vast expanse? Is it the mystery of what lies beneath, hidden and feeling somehow dangerous?

As we begin a week in the magical Maldives, I intend to get my fill.

Diving deep

As much as I love the water, I also have a healthy respect for its power over us puny humans. What better way to embrace that power than by learning to scuba dive?

I admit my fear. In just doing the theory part of the PADI course, there’s a lot to remember and it seems that things can go wrong in a awful hurry. But with nearly 10 million active scuba divers worldwide, I feel pretty confident that I’ll be in good hands.

As I sit here this morning with my feet burrowing deep into the golden sugar sand, I capture my love of this beautiful gift in the poem below.

Ocean

Oh you wonderfully, wild blue green grey salty thing. 

You tug at my feet

tease sand between my toes

curl and froth in mock anger as you pull away and come

rushing back again. 

The sand crabs scuttle past me as 

I walk along the edges of your vastness, 

now making holes and hiding

in mock fear from your 

advances, now furiously 

digging their way out,

a timeless routine.

In the shallows I feel safe

in your embrace—

this tropical iteration of you 

all warmth and 

clear-eyed innocence.

But it’s not very far in before you quietly remind me 

of your power, 

your ability to sweep me off my feet

in a dance in which 

you always lead.

And why not? 

You are the king of your domain,

Poseidon ruling over an infinite country of watery inhabitants.

We know them not, 

these denizens of the deep.

You’ve hidden them well in your watery depths 

and try as we might,

with our tanks

and masks 

and rubbery fins,

they elude us still.

Perhaps that's why those few

we’ve met, we love dearly

and sometimes fear.

The sharks and dolphins and turtles, 

the mantas and pretty

bright fish that swim up to say hello 

just beneath the surface.

I hope to know you better still.

To conquer my fear and swim 

down deep.

To see the treasures 

you so carefully guard,

wave at a turtle

blink at glowing coral.

In going under, I’ll go within

plumb my own depths 

and float weightlessly.

Maldivian tuna curry

Selina Periampillai

serves 4-6

You’d be forgiven if you thought that tourism was the Maldives’ biggest industry. In fact, fishing has been the dominant driving economic sector and still outstrips tourism by far.

In a tiny country surrounded by water, tuna is the prize catch, and each atoll lays claim to their own local tuna, proudly caught and served in a variety of delicious ways.

Our favourite so far is a fragrant tuna green curry. This recipe from Mauritian Selina Periampillai, captures the fragrant and imaginative use of spices that give Maldivian food a character of its own. Some of the ingredients may be a bit exotic, but can easily be found in a good local Asian food store or market.

Ingredients

1⅛ pounds of tuna steak, cut into 2-inch pieces

1 tablespoon of coconut oil

3 garlic cloves, finely chopped

2 cardamom pods, seeds only

1 knob of fresh ginger, 2.5cm in length, peeled and finely chopped

10 curry leaves, finely chopped

1 green chilli, finely sliced

1 onion, finely sliced

½ tsp ground fennel seeds

½ tsp ground cumin

½ tsp ground turmeric

½ tsp black pepper

1 pint of coconut milk

1 stick of cinnamon

sea salt

fresh coriander, to garnish

1. Lightly salt the fish and set aside.

2. In a large saucepan, warm the coconut oil over a medium heat until simmering. Add in the garlic, cardamom, ginger, curry leaves and chilli. Let this sauté until fragrant – usually around 30 seconds.

3. Add the onion slices and cook until softened, around 5–7 minutes. Add the rest of the spices: the fennel, cumin, turmeric and black pepper. After around a minute they will mingle together and become aromatic.

4. Transfer everything into a food processor and blend to a coarse paste. Return the paste back to the pan over a medium heat, pour in the coconut milk, holding back one tablespoon for drizzling at the end, and pop in the cinnamon stick and ½ teaspoon salt.

5. Bring to a simmer and gently add the fish pieces to the sauce. They will cook fairly quickly. After 5 minutes, the fish should be tender, opaque and cooked throughout and the curry will be ready to serve. Drizzle over the extra coconut milk, scatter with the coriander and serve with a heap of rice.