DAHAB, EGYPT
DAHAB, EGYPT
Dahab lies along the Gulf of Aqaba, where the Red Sea feels very different from the postcard image of shallow, gently sloping reefs. Here, the coastline borders a tectonic rift. The seabed doesn’t gradually taper into the distance. It drops. The reef ends abruptly and the blue takes over. You are not swimming toward an underwater horizon. You are suspended above depth.
Lagona Divers was our base for the week, with Golden Blocks as our house reef. A straightforward shore entry, but far from a simple dive. The first descent was about recalibrating. Finding neutral buoyancy in a 3mm suit. Testing how much lead I needed because the Red Sea is saltier, and of course testing the camera. After a nice, relaxed dive where we also found an electric ray, everything was set for a great week of diving.
Just beside it lies Moray Garden. No morays for us. Instead, a lionfish perfectly suspended in open blue. Fins extended, motionless, unbothered. One of those encounters that feels staged, but isn’t. The image turned out perfectly.
Golden Blocks also became the setting for my 300th dive. A night dive, and my first in tropical water. I shared that milestone dive with Jolanda, my buddy throughout the week. Night diving compresses reality. Your world shrinks to the narrow beam of your torch. Beyond it, nothing exists. On a second night dive, that isolation became sharper. A large lionfish began shadowing my light, clearly using it to hunt. Every time I swept the reef, it followed. More than once it materialized directly in front of me from the dark. Close enough to make me adjust my position, but never aggressive. Not threatening, just unapologetically present. We also encountered an African conger eel moving with intent along the reef, active and alert in the darkness.
One of the most striking shore dives was at The Canyon. The Canyon is not decorative. It is a genuine fracture in the reef plateau. Swimming toward the fracture we saw the well-known curtain of bubbles above it. We descended to around 27 meters to the entrance of the canyon, walls rising on either side.
Along the outer wall, the real character of Dahab becomes clear. The reef simply stops. Beneath you, open blue and a very steep drop-off!
The boat day felt different from the start. We were the only group on board, and once offshore it seemed as if the sea belonged to us. No other dive boats on the horizon. No traffic. Just space.
At El Shugarath we dropped to around 30 meters, where large fields of sea fans stretched as far as you could see. What stood out was their condition. Intact. Undamaged. Standing as they should.
Gabr el Bint delivered steep walls and sandy slopes where fine sediment drifted downward in slow motion, creating subtle underwater sand falls.
Shaab Said is rarely dived because of current. The sea was unusually calm, and our guide made the decision to go. It was a calculated call, not routine. It paid off. Solid structure, clean reef, a site you don’t take for granted.
Few dive sites in the world carry the same level of recognition. The Blue Hole is internationally known, frequently discussed, and often misunderstood. Divers travel to Dahab specifically for this site. Its name alone holds weight within the global dive community.
We started at The Bells. The entry is a narrow vertical chute in the reef where you drop almost straight down along the wall, descending to around 30 meters. You fall through your buddy’s bubbles, which is exactly where the site gets its name. The descent is short, direct and demands focus. No drifting. No distraction. Just controlled vertical movement. At the bottom, you exit onto the outer wall that leads toward the Blue Hole.
The second dive took us inside the Blue Hole itself.
The Blue Hole is a sinkhole carved into the reef plateau, roughly 150 meters across and around 110 meters deep. At approximately 52 to 56 meters lies The Arch, the tunnel connecting it to the open sea. That feature alone has made the site both famous and notorious.
The reputation of this place does not come from myth, but from reality. Depth. Narcosis. Gas management. The Arch sits well beyond recreational limits. Memorial plaques above the water commemorate divers who lost their lives here. You see the names before you even gear up, and they set the tone immediately.
Underwater, the Blue Hole is stripped down. Wall. Blue. Depth. No spectacle needed. The scale and emptiness define the experience. It sharpens awareness of limits, planning and discipline. And yes, it is very, very blue inside.
Standing there before the dive, reading the plaques, does something to you. It puts both feet firmly on the ground. It reminds you that what we do underwater is extraordinary, but also unforgiving. We deliberately enter an environment that is not built for us. Every descent depends on preparation, judgment and self-control. It makes you think about the consequences.
There is a long-told local legend about a young princess who supposedly threw herself from the cliffs into the sea to escape a forced marriage. She vanished into the depths and was never found. According to the story, she calls divers into the deep and does not let them return. Some storytellers even link the many diving fatalities at the Blue Hole to this tale, suggesting that overconfident men are somehow “lured” downward.
There is no historical evidence supporting this story. It is regarded as folklore. The risks here are not supernatural. They are measurable, predictable and entirely human.
The Blue Hole does not need mythology to command respect. Its reality is powerful enough.
What made this trip stand out was not drama or spectacle, but the balance of everything coming together at the right moment. A strong and supportive group. Distinctive dive sites, each with its own character. Rare calm conditions at sea. My 300th dive marking a personal milestone. And multiple species I had never encountered before. Not one single highlight, but the combination that made it complete.
Thanks to Jolanda for sharing the dives with me, to Scuba World Arnhem for the organization, and to the rest of the group for the great time we spent together.
A trip to remember. Not because of the perfect shot, but because of the experience itself. One that stays with you long after the dive is over.
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