Return to the Blue: Diving and Wildlife Encounters in Cape Verde
by Sean Chinn
After a bit of a diving hiatus, I’d been itching to get back in the water. With the birth of my second child last year and a run of bad luck with travelling and potential trips, I ended up the driest I’ve been since the forced break during Covid. With the chance to get back underwater later this year and a new adventure beginning with The Scuba Place, I should finally be enjoying regular diving again. Still, my anxiety around travelling and big dive adventures had reared its head, and I knew I needed to ease back into it. With a family holiday on the horizon and plenty of back and forth on where to go, we eventually settled on Sal Island, Cape Verde, just a few weeks before departure. A comfortable flight time with young children, only a two-hour time difference, and a keen price made it an obvious choice. Once I began researching the diving—relaxed, interesting, and with the chance to photograph lemon sharks and turtles—I was sold.
With a break from being underwater, my photography had taken a different direction at home in the UK. I’d become slightly obsessed with photographing birds of prey. So imagine my surprise when, while playing in the pool of our hotel, the RIU Funana in Santa Maria, I heard the familiar call of a common kestrel. It landed just metres away—camera not in hand, unfortunately—and seemed very used to people. I suspected they were resident at the hotel, and sure enough, I was treated to encounters with a male and female kestrel throughout the holiday. That gave me the wildlife dopamine hit I’d been missing.
Now it was time to see if the underwater world would deliver and bring me back to where my photography journey started. My first taste of saltwater on this trip came in the form of knee-deep water and one of my ocean favourites: sharks. In particular, baby lemon sharks in the nursery at Shark Bay in Feijoal. We visited as part of a full-day island tour, and it was clear the site is a popular attraction. At just three euros per person, and with the thrill of seeing sharks available to anyone able to wade into the shallows, it was busy. The good news? There were plenty of lemon sharks to go around—a healthy population, no doubt. Still, being greedy, I’d do it differently next time: visiting early morning or late afternoon, when the crowds have gone and the guides aren’t spreading fish scraps around. Fewer distractions for the sharks means they concentrate closer to you—just the way I’d like it.
Before my short but sweet diving adventure on the island, I had another special opportunity to get in the water with my camera. This time, it was to share my passion with my eldest daughter. She’s turtle-obsessed, so being able to show her a wild green sea turtle underwater for the first time was unforgettable. During a day trip to Santa Maria pier, we’d seen fishermen gutting their catch, attracting stingrays and turtles below. I knew I had to take her in with me. Nervous in the sea but comfortable in the pool, she clung to my shoulders as we swam out. Soon enough, five or six turtles cruised by, and her excitement filled me with pure joy.
Finally, on the sixth day of the holiday, I returned to diving properly. I hadn’t realised how busy the local centres could get and, after contacting a few, only just managed to secure space. I ended up booking with Eco Dive School Cabo Verde for two morning dives on Monday and another two on Wednesday. The dive centre itself, right on the beach in Santa Maria, was the perfect tropical backdrop: light sand, turquoise water, and a relaxed but professional “No Stress” Cabo Verde vibe, thanks to my guide Dudu.
No gentle reintroduction for me—the first dive was at Tchouklassa, dropping to 30 metres with some current. My air consumption wasn’t great, but the dive was worth it. I drifted past a school of surgeonfish spiralling in perfect formation, beneath a dramatic overhang covered in bright yellow cup coral. Porcupine pufferfish and soldierfish added to the show.
Dive two was exactly what I needed to regain my comfort underwater. At just 12 metres, the Santo Antão wreck was shallow, relaxed, and full of life. Over time the wreck has broken apart, creating a playground of hiding spots for marine creatures. I spotted an eel, a stingray, and countless soldierfish, their red scales glowing against the wreck’s dark backdrop. But the real stars were the porcupine pufferfish—hundreds of them, camouflaged until you spotted their comical faces everywhere you looked.
Two days later I returned for dives three and four. The first combined two sites, 3 Grutas and Farol, maxing out at around 18 metres. Small caves teemed with soldierfish, trumpetfish, and even stingrays. On the safety stop, I was treated to a green turtle, though it wasn’t the loggerhead I was hoping for. My fourth and final dive at Lost Anchor was shallow but packed with life. Stingrays were everywhere, and two nurse sharks made the day. A playful little yellow eel even tried to steal the show as we took turns peering under ledges at the resting sharks.
While I didn’t see my dream loggerhead turtle underwater, Sal Island truly surprised me. From baby lemon sharks to turtles, nurse sharks, stingrays, wrecks, and endless fish life, it was a wonderful way to return to diving. I feel I’ve only scratched the surface here, and a dedicated dive trip could make Cape Verde an exciting alternative to the more familiar Egypt holidays.
I’d love to share these experiences with others. Working with The Scuba Place Ltd, I’m considering hosting a group trip to Sal Island. If you’re interested in joining me—or if you’d like to plan a dive holiday anywhere else—please get in touch.
Come diving with me:
Instagram: @greatwhitesean
