Swimming and Snorkelling Off the Boat

Swimming from a boat is a different thing

Almost everybody's experience of Mediterranean swimming is entering from a beach: shallow at first, sand or shingle underfoot, deepening gradually, with the shore always a few strokes away. Swimming from an anchored boat removes every part of that.

You go down a ladder into water that is already deep, with nothing beneath you and no shallow end to stand up in. For a confident swimmer that is simply better, because the water is cleaner, colder and clearer away from a beach. For anyone less sure, it is a genuine adjustment.

The boat is the shore. That reframing is the whole of it: you swim around the boat rather than towards land, and the ladder is the thing you keep an eye on rather than the sand. Once that has landed, deep water stops being intimidating and starts being the reason the water is as clear as it is.

How comfortable a swimmer you need to be

You need to be able to swim, and to be comfortable in water where you cannot stand. That is a lower bar than it sounds and a real one: this is not a trip where non-swimmers can paddle at the edge, because there is no edge.

The crew are on board throughout and watching the water at every stop, which is a meaningful difference from swimming off a public beach. Boats that carry a deck full of swimmers into open anchorages employ people to do exactly this.

If you are an anxious swimmer, take a buoyancy aid or a float. Nothing about a day like this requires you to be far from the ladder, and floating within a few metres of the hull in extremely clear water is most of the pleasure anyway.

The three ladders, and why they matter

Three separate ladders is listed among the boat's features and it is one of those details that means nothing on paper and shapes the day in practice. At every stop, a large proportion of a boatload wants to be in the water within about a minute of the anchor going down.

One ladder makes that an orderly queue in full sun. Three makes it a scramble that resolves itself immediately. The difference is more obvious on the way out than the way in, because climbing a ladder wet and slightly tired takes longer than stepping off the side.

It also spreads the swimmers around the hull rather than concentrating them at one point, which makes the water less crowded and the boat easier for the crew to watch.

A ladder down the hull into water with nothing underneath it

What there is to see under water

Maltese water is exceptionally clear, and the reason is that there is very little in it: no major rivers bringing silt, limited plankton, and a rocky rather than muddy sea floor. Visibility measured in tens of metres is normal rather than exceptional.

What you see is more about light and rock than about wildlife. Sunlight through clear water onto pale limestone produces the colour the Blue Lagoon is famous for, and the same effect happens at every anchorage on the same rock.

There are fish, mostly small and mostly around structure, and the interest is in the rock itself: undercut walls, boulder fields, small caves and the shafts of light moving across them. The Crystal Lagoon, deep and cliff-walled, is the best of it.

Gear, and what to bring

The trip does not provide snorkelling equipment, so bring a mask if you want one. A basic mask and snorkel takes almost no space in a bag and transforms the swimming stops from pleasant to genuinely interesting.

Beyond that the list is short and given by the operator: swimwear, a towel, sunglasses, a sun hat and sunscreen. Shoes are not worn on deck, so plan to be barefoot from the moment you board.

Sunscreen deserves its own mention because six hours on open water with almost no shade, plus reflection off the sea, is a far heavier exposure than the same hours on land. Reapply after every swim rather than once in the morning.

How long you actually get

With two or three stops spread across six hours, and the transits between them relatively short from a northern departure, each anchorage is long enough to swim properly. This is not a boat that stops for ten minutes and moves on.

In practice most people find they are in the water at the first stop, out and eating or drinking at the second, and back in again once they have digested. The rhythm of a long day at anchor sorts itself out without anybody organising it.

The one thing worth doing deliberately is going in at the first stop even if you are not ready. The Blue Lagoon is the water everybody came for, and the boat does not stay there all day. Sitting that one out to dry off in the sun is the regret people mention afterwards, because the second anchorage is a different bay and not a second chance at the first.

Before you book

At every swim stop

1. The anchor goes down

   The boat settles in the bay and the crew open up the ladders. From a northern departure the transits are short, so the stops are long.

2. Down a ladder into deep water

   Three separate ladders means no queue. There is nothing underfoot: you are swimming from a boat rather than wading from sand.

3. The crew watch the water

   People whose job at anchor is watching swimmers rather than serving the bar. A meaningful difference from a public beach.

4. Mask on, if you brought one

   The trip does not provide snorkelling gear. The interest is light on pale limestone, undercut walls and small caves rather than big wildlife.

5. Back up, and reapply

   Six hours on open water with reflection off the sea is heavy sun. Sunscreen after every swim rather than once in the morning.

6. Eat, dry off, go again

   A long anchorage sorts its own rhythm out. Most people swim, eat, and are back in the water before the boat moves on.