SUMEET KESWANI
structure that’s being touted as the Maldives’
first underwater museum. The Coralarium is a
semi-submerged inter-tidal gallery of sculptures
made by renowned environmental sculptor
Jason deCaires Taylor, the British artist best
known for creating the world’s first underwater
sculpture park in the Caribbean Sea, off the
coast of Grenada. His creation for Fairmont is
a bit more complex: a six-metre tall steel cube
with perforated walls (made to replicate coral
structure and allow the passage of current and
marine life) hosts sculptures perched on the
top of its roof, on the seabed, and straddling
the inter-tidal waterline. It has a dry, elevated
platform for the average visitor’s viewing
pleasure, but the joy is in the dive. Leading
up to its stairs is a seabed pathway flanked by
submerged sculpted trees and earmarked sites
for potted corals.
Placed around 50 metres off the coast of
Sirru Fen Fushi (literally, ‘secret water island’
in Dhivehi) and in the middle of the largest
developed coral lagoon around, the installation
instantly caught my eye as the seaplane descended
on its surrounding waters near a small float, an
international airport of sorts for Fairmont.
A speedboat ferried me to the jetty of the
resort, which borrows heavily from local
sensibilities. My retreat for the next two days was
a sunset beach villa, set up with an abundance
of Maldivian accents in its wood, bamboo, and
cane works. But its most fetching detail was the
patio that offered a plunge pool and direct access
to the beach dotted with hermit crabs, introverts
of the highest order. The accommodation did not
boast of the watertight privacy of a water villa,
for the beach stretch was accessible to all, but the
beach villa possessed a breezy charm.
The villa’s location was convenient—a few
steps from Raha Market, the resort’s go-to
restaurant for breakfast buffet, evening happy
hours at the bar, and themed dinners (Street
Food, Maldivian Cuisine, Spices of Indian, Italian
Extravaganza, etc.). However, the best meal of my
trip was savoured at Kata, a Japanese restaurant
that served pan-Asian flavours. With a meal of
five courses, each paired with a unique wine or
sake, the chef catered to my vegetarian palate
with finesse. It isn’t every day that you get to taste
the complexity of a red bean sorbet on a Japanese
rice pudding or wasabi mayonnaise paired with
perfectly cooked tempura vegetables.
By the third day on the island, the Coralarium
became a certainty on the horizon, an integral
part of the view from any point on the beach. It
was a polarising installation, even within my ownconsciousness, anchoring the infinity of the sea
with its all-too-human finiteness. But it was only
when I snorkelled to it with the in-house marine
biologist as my guide that I realised the point
of the art. The six fully submerged sculptures
inside the cube resemble children looking up,
presumably at the 10 semi-submerged adults
on plinths. They underline the rise of sea level, a
phenomenon that owes its rapid manifestation to
man-made climate change. While this global rise
will take a while to register itself into the minds of
naysaying world leaders, the Maldives can’t afford
to wait—the islands’ average elevation is just
1.8 metres above sea level.
The Coralarium’s adult sculptures, partly
above the waterline, are hybrid forms: part-
human, part-plant, and part-coral. The sculpted
organic bits that appear to grow out of their
skin and morph their features borrow fromClockwise: The
Coralarium is an
integral part of the
view from Raha
Market; the fully
submerged
sculptures resemble
children; 10 hybrid
forms straddle
the waterline.
Opposite: The patio
of the beach villa
features a pavillion
and a plunge pool.travelandleisureindia.in