Life on the Lake

We first saw the lake at Venice Beach, just south of Monkey Bay on the lake's southern border, after having cycled three days from Blantyre. The heavenly climate, attractive waters, and mountainous surroundings made me look forward to spending some time on its shores. Ilala, the old, well-known Scottish steamer that's been servicing Lake Malawi for decades, carried us for two days and three nights from Monkey Bay to Nkhata Bay, where we found the little paradise that was Mayoka Village.

The Lake

Lake Malawi is 560km/350 miles long by 75km/45 miles wide at its widest point, which ranks it as the third largest lake in Africa and tenth in the world, by surface area. It is one of Africa's Great Lakes, located in the Great Rift Valley that runs about 5,000km/3,000 miles from Syria to Mozambique. The rift will eventually, they say, split Africa in two.

The lake is renowned for its variety of endemic fish species, supplying a large number of the freshwater tropical fish sold in aquariums in the USA and Europe. In particular, there are around 500 or more species of cichlids in the lake (photo).

Diving in the clear waters was what I'd imagine diving in an aquarium would be like. The fish life was prolific and the underwater landscape rocky and barren, although covered with algae. We saw mostly small cichlids, 2-10 inches/5-25cm long and sporting an impressive array of colors, from dark blue with black stripes to bright yellow and white.

Much deeper below in colder water are the fishing grounds. The local favorites are chambo (tilapia) and butterfish, delicious staple foods that are served in any restaurant. The fishermen do their work from traditional dugout canoes, carved from a single tree trunk and driven by carved paddles. Some people fish during the morning and evening, but local wisdom suggests that nighttime is the best time for catching the two favorites. After dark, an entire town seems to materialize on the lake - lamps from a fleet of fishing canoes.

The Dugout

I have never seen a boat more challenging to handle, more uncomfortable, and more difficult to remain inside than the African dugout. Picture a felled tree trunk, stripped of its bark and branches, and hollowed out from end to end with a hand axe through a slot-like opening just large enough to accommodate the motions of the axe, and you have a dugout, or floating log. It is extremely heavy and cuts through the water with all the efficiency of, well, a giant log. In addition, every one is unique and therefore learning to paddle one effectively is astoundingly difficult.

The only way to remain seated for longer than 10 minutes without your legs and butt going numb, or rolling off into the lake, is by straddling the trunk, feet dangling in the water. Otherwise, to keep entirely dry you must wedge yourself between the two hard edges of the narrow opening, your legs squeezed inside.

Always eager for a unique fishing experience, I took a canoe out a couple of times in the early morning. They were the most unsuccessful fishing forays I can remember. Trying to keep the balky hunk of wood on any given path was a frustrating and futile effort that involved several sluggish and derisive 360-degree spins. A current constantly pushed me out to open water and waves from the huge lake jostled the round, roll-prone canoe, allowing me little time to attend to the lines. The results of the two attempts were two lost hooks, lines, and sinkers, and a dose of seasickness.

The Village

Without doubt the most enjoyable place I've stayed at so far on this trip, Mayoka Village is a microcosmic tourist haven on the lake. It's situated on a narrow forested peninsula, a 10-minute walk from Nkhata Bay, the nearby town. Small private huts, or "chalets" overlook the lake, nestled amongst the trees on a steep hill and on the rocky shore of a small bay. A large open-air common area, covered by a vaulted, traditional-style roof of tree trunks and bamboo, serves as the bar, restaurant and dining area, as well as library and lounge space. Food and drinks are fantastic, the staff is friendly and fun, and the surroundings peaceful and idyllic. Canoes are free to use and it is a pleasure to swim and snorkel in the warm, clean, alluring waters of the lake. A massive boulder also provides a 4m/15ft jump into the crystal clear water below.

Apart from the obvious charms of the "village," I had a particularly memorable time there because of the artisans who operate a small shop in the compound. Selling the full gamut of Western-tourist-oriented paintings and wood carvings, their most interesting products for me were the many djembes they had for sale.

The Djembe

From my limited experience on this huge continent thus far, no instrument better embodies the spirit of Africa than the djembe drum. Hand carved from a single piece of wood (in this case, teak, mahogany, or softwood) and covered with cow hide fringed with tufts of hair, the instrument exudes the earthy, raw-material proximity to nature that I associate with the cultures of Africa. It can be made to any size, from a huge bass drum to the tiny travel djembe that I now carry on my rear rack. A multi-toned group of djembes playing in concert exerts a force on the body, mind, and soul unlike any I'd experienced.

I participated in several djembe jams during the 10 days I spent at Mayoka Village, but the first one in particular had a lasting impression on me. Sometimes, the sound was akin to popcorn; everyone played their own beat, none strong enough to rally the support of the others. But when we played in synch, the result was electrifying (to me, anyway).

I remember leaving the session to fetch something, hurrying so as not to miss too much. As I walked back, the infectious, primal rhythms seeped into my flesh with the growing volume, drawing me in as would the sirens. By the time I resumed playing, I was floating on sound waves.