I still remember the sound of my own breathing through the regulator — slow, uncertain, almost fragile.
Ten years ago, I took my very first dive. The surface closed above me, the noise of the world disappeared, and for the first time in my life, I understood what silence could mean.
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That moment changed everything. It opened a door I never closed again. The ocean became my classroom, my studio, my refuge — and ultimately, my voice.

The Next Generation Takes the PlungeToday, it was their turn.
Ten young Mahoran students gathered at Abalone Dive Center for their first dive — the first real step into a world they had only seen from the shore.
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They arrived laughing, a bit nervous, curious. On the boat, the chatter slowly faded as the lagoon widened around them. Then came the moment — masks on, fins ready, one deep breath, and a backward roll into silence.

More Than a DiveThis baptism wasn’t just about learning how to breathe underwater.
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It was about connection — to the lagoon, to themselves, and to something bigger.

For a few hours, phones were forgotten, screens were off, and attention turned fully toward the living world beneath the surface.
For many of them, this first dive will remain a memory, but maybe also a spark — the beginning of a story.

“I felt some apprehension, a bit of stress… But once in the water, it was a release. I really enjoyed it — maybe a new passion.” — Lyam

“I want to discover our beautiful lagoon and raise awareness among my classmates. This dive allowed me to see the reef and many different species.” — Chamsoumdine

“I felt confident and was eager to get in. I was impressed by the beauty of the underwater world.” — Olivia

“A special day. I didn’t expect to see so much beauty. The only challenge was the ear pressure.” — Anaïs
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“I really enjoyed it, it was incredible. Underwater, you feel less stressed — it’s another world. It makes me want to go again.” — Oukase

Passing the Torch

Watching them, I couldn’t help but think of that first version of myself, ten years ago, discovering the same silence.
The same light filtering through the surface, the same heartbeat echoing in the mask.
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Seeing that wonder reflected in their eyes — that’s perhaps the most meaningful reward of all.
Because behind every image, every project, there’s this simple idea: to protect, you must first fall in love.

After cyclone Chido, the lagoon still bears its scars. Beneath the surface, the coral gardens that once sheltered hundreds of species now show long, pale patches — the mark of a system shaken but not defeated.

This week, we joined Cyrielle, marine biologist at the Parc Marin de Mayotte, for a monitoring session focused on reef fish and algal dynamics. Her work follows a simple question: what happens when algae win? Because when the corals die, the empty space they leave behind is quickly colonised by algae. If these algae stay too long, they can block coral recovery and flatten the habitat. But sometimes, nature finds its own counterbalance — herbivorous fish move in, grazing the algae and keeping the system alive.

Cyrielle’s team tracks these signs of resilience through visual counts and standardised transects — 15-metre lines surveyed at fixed depths, always at the same times of day to avoid bias. Each observation, each fish recorded, adds a data point to a much bigger picture: how the reef reorganises after a storm.
Alongside her, Éloïse from the IRD, and two research engineers from the University of Mayotte, study the coral response — how structures hold, collapse or regrow. Together, their work tells a complementary story: fish show the functioning of the reef, while corals reveal its memory.
For the Ambassadeurs du Lagon, this session was an initiation to the quiet side of science. From the surface, I captured two telling moments: a diver writing notes behind a field of dead coral, and a tablet used to identify fish species. Nothing dramatic, yet deeply symbolic — the patient, methodical work that underpins every conservation effort.

Over ten days of surveys, two sectors — east and west — are being documented. A second round in April will allow comparisons, revealing whether algal cover has stabilised, and if herbivore populations continue to rise. This is how science speaks: not in snapshots, but in curves that slowly make sense.
Beyond data, this work also carries a message about responsibility. Field teams constantly question the impact of their missions — the travel, the fuel, the carbon footprint of research itself. In Mayotte, that awareness has turned into action: sharing boats, grouping operations, and keeping the water column clear when measurements require it. Because studying life should never come at the cost of life itself.

A related survey is being led by Cyrielle at low tide, this time focusing on fishing pressure along the reef slope. The idea is simple: observe how, when, and where people fish — not to police, but to understand. By linking these patterns with ecological data offshore, scientists can identify moments when the system is most vulnerable and help adjust local practices without conflict.
In the end, algae and fish are two faces of the same story. One shows the space available; the other, who dares to occupy it. Watching both is the only way to know if the reef — and the people who depend on it — can find balance again.

25 young candidates. 10 selected. Behind those numbers lies a day filled with emotion, exchange, and discovery led by the Mayotte Marine Park. ​After the first round of applications, the candidates gathered for a practical selection day: workshops, debates, and teamwork exercises. The goal was simple — to inspire, engage, and prepare the next guardians of the lagoon.

Four workshops, one shared energyGuided by Perrine from the Marine Park, Julien from EDD (Education for Sustainable Development), local volunteers, former teachers, and Philippe as supervisor, the participants took part in four thematic workshops:

• Sensory workshop – learning to express what they feel in the water, turning emotion into positive messages they can share with younger students.
  
• Aquatic ease and safety – understanding how to behave at sea, gaining confidence before their first dive and the Level 1 training.
  
• Whale rescue scenario – imagining how to react to a stranded whale, testing communication, initiative, and teamwork.
  
• Group exercise – a simple team activity revealing the group’s natural cohesion and dynamics.
  

Thinking, debating, actingIn the afternoon, all participants came together for a collective debate around three thought-provoking questions:
“Is protecting the lagoon the police’s responsibility?”
“Are young people the ones destroying the lagoon?”
“Should we only eat what comes from the land?”
The conversations were surprisingly mature.
One student said that just being part of this day was already an act of protection.
Another added:
“Without education, there is no protection. It’s not about age — even parents can learn.”
Among the 25 candidates, 10 were selected — five girls and five boys between 16 and 18 years old.
Most came from Petite-Terre, showing how motivation can overcome the island’s transport challenges.

What comes nextNext step: their first dive — a symbolic yet transformative experience.
From this first breath underwater will come understanding, respect, and perhaps, a lifelong connection to the ocean.

More than a project — a movementWhile most teenagers spend their holidays playing football or relaxing on the beach, these young people chose to act.
Their curiosity, sincerity, and willingness to learn bring a spark of hope in a context where local commitment often replaces national support.
Today I saw sincerity, curiosity, and above all… hope. The future of the lagoon begins here, in their eyes.

A first day dedicated to meeting people rather than diving.
Community groups, the Marine Park team, educators… all sharing their projects and their hopes for Mayotte’s lagoon.
It was the beginning of a conversation that can only grow stronger.

The Moment
​These opening hours were not about field measurements or underwater footage yet. They were about listening and exchanging.
Each selected initiative introduced its approach and vision — a moment to discover common ground.

The People
​Among the participants, the educators of Haki Za Wanatsa (“Rights of the Children” in Shimaoré) reminded everyone that protecting the lagoon also means investing in the future of Mayotte’s youth.
We could already feel emerging synergies — science, education, civic engagement — usually kept apart but, for a day, sitting at the same table.

What We Take
​AwayThis first meeting showed that there is no conservation without dialogue… nor without networks and a shared will.
Everyone can contribute at the local level, without waiting for everything to come from the State.
That sense of collective agency is crucial here in Mayotte: the lagoon’s future depends on the willingness of many to work together.
It is encouraging to see connections forming and a common hope taking shape — to offer the younger generation a living, responsible relationship with their island and its ocean.

Follow the Journey
This post opens a series of Field Notes following the project step by step --
from the first coral-health surveys to the dives and experiences of the Lagoon Ambassadors.
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Next chapter: heading back to the water for the first field survey of the coral reefs.