Slowly, the plane swings down towards the delta. Dotted about in the strait are a few wooden dhows and the occasional container ship. A fringe of sand appears, swaying palm groves, then a lighthouse. Suddenly, you have landed on a bumpy strip, and you are in paradise — otherwise known as Mafia.
I have been in paradise once before. Then its name was Zanzibar, and that was only six years ago. Already it has been developed. Vast swathes of beach have been bought from peasant fishermen at knock-down prices.
Mafia Island is 120km south of Dar es Salaam, the Tanzanian capital. It offers an alternative to Zanzibar to those besotted with the east African coast; being small and relatively expensive, it is unlikely to suffer the predations that have been visited on its near neighbour — although the recent discovery of oil off the island may present other threats.
While there is an Italian resort on the island, the name Mafia is not Italian. Its origin is unknown, but it probably comes from the Arabic morfieyeh, for group, which refers to the archipelago. Portuguese maps from their earliest voyages at the end of the 15th century mark the island as “Monfia”. Vasco da Gama sighted Mafia in 1498 on his way north from the Cape.
Lying off the great African waterway of the Rufiji — millennia ago, one of the largest rivers on Earth — Mafia is a place with an interesting history. It is thought to be the island of Menouthesias mentioned by Claudius Ptolemy (AD 90-168) in his Geographia, the Western world’s first atlas. In those days, the island was ruled by the Sabaeans of Yemen: the tribe of the Queen of Sheba, who in biblical times are said to have held dominion all down this coastline.
Persians ruled here in subsequent centuries, and there was trade with countries as far afield as Indonesia and Ming dynasty China. The ancient Greeks landed here 300 years before the birth of Christ. The Portuguese began 200 years of violent rule on the East African coast from about 1497.
From around 1600 the island was more or less under the control of Omani Arabs and the Sultan of Zanzibar — until 1890 when Germany took control as part of the “scramble for Africa”. During World War I Mafia was occupied by the British navy.
None of this fascinating history is apparent when you arrive at Mafia’s rudimentary airport, with its quaint, straw-roofed “waving bay”, after a half-hour flight from Dar es Salaam. And you don’t see much of it on the Land Rover journey across the island to Kinasi Lodge, the best of the island’s three upscale hotels. Everything is bizarre and romantic nonetheless, from the white-robed locals flitting like ghosts through the coconut plantations to lagoons full of bird life.
Kinasi Lodge is a complex of 20 bungalows with a private stretch of coast. A series of landscaped terraces lead from a communal dining area down to the beach, with palms and mangroves on either side. Altogether it is a delightful, relaxed place that gives you the best of the island without making too much impact on its ecology. This is important since the lodge is next to Mafia Island Marine Park, run by the World Wildlife Fund in concert with the Tanzanian government.
The island is host to a wide variety of rare species including green and hawksbill turtles, which sometimes lay their eggs on its wrack-strewn beaches. A 200m deep trough off the island is home to tuna and marlin.
There are many opportunities for snorkelling and scuba-diving along the unbroken reef that runs the length of Mafia. This can be arranged through Kinasi, which has a resident diving instructor.
A visit to the nearby island of Chole is well worth making. Its old German prison is a picturesque sight, while a walk through the village gives one a sense of rural life. People seem happy, and you can understand why. With no phones and few cars, the place is an idyll.
It is sadly in the nature of idylls not to remain so, but let’s hope Mafia has learned the lesson of Zanzibar and doesn’t allow the same thing to happen. My advice, all the same, is to get to Mafia quickly. — Â