PIRATES were only one of a series of problems we encountered when in the Indian Ocean recently. The ship I was on could not visit Madagascar due to political unrest there and sea conditions between Mozambique and the French island of Reunion were a little uncomfortable.

Our visit to the remote atoll archipelago of Aldabra made up for them all, however.

Famed as a wildlife site of unique international importance, taking our guests to see its wonders was the realisation of a long-held dream.

Aldabra is home to a small research station with a few scientists, apart from whom nobody lives on the low-lying islands.

They are the remains of a volcano but erosion has shattered the caldera, resulting in lots of rocky islets on which vast numbers of seabirds nest.

Getting there is difficult. Aldabra is part of the Seychelles group about 1,000km south of the main islands.

Access is by sea, although small numbers of visitors can fly to nearby Assumption, where there is an airstrip. Air charter is fiendishly expensive, however, and one would still have to get a boat up to Aldabra, 30km north.

In reality, the only way visitors can reach Aldabra is on a cruise ship, but permits to visit are strictly limited.

The Aldabra flightless rail is closely related to the white-throated rail of Madagascar. (Pictures by Tim Earl, 0790759)

To make matters worse for the ship I was on, we were told that the research station was due to receive a supply ship on the day we were booked and access would be impossible.

Happily, our captain had nerves of steel and we visited anyway to be welcomed warmly by the scientists.

Long before reaching the islands we had been watching their wildlife build up as an increasing number of seabirds were spotted.

Red-footed boobies were the first to arrive, using the ship as a flying-aid and fish-scarer. The birds hung above the ship on updraft from the bridge and waited for us to plough through shoals (or should that be flocks?) of flying fish.

In the right conditions, flying fish can glide more than 100 metres over the waves, avoiding danger from beneath in the form of game fish, sharks and dolphins.

In this instance, they mistook the ship’s hull for a predator and took off, gliding across the waves only to be chased by boobies, which caught one once in a while.

Normally, the boobies circle feeding pods of dolphins or game fish waiting for their prey to emerge, but over centuries they have learned to take advantage of ships.

On one occasion they gave up flying altogether and perched on the bow-line which runs up to the mast, waiting to swoop. This went on for three days, prompting the captain to issue instruction for me to ‘get your bl**dy birds off my ship!’ They had made quite a mess on the deck below.

Noddies and white terns were next to meet us and just as Assumption was sighted, we saw our first frigate birds, huge pirates of the air that rob other birds of their catch.

A large catamaran was anchored off Assumption with 15 tourists and five crew on board. She had come down from the Seychelles on a diving cruise and the passengers went ashore for a while, while their scuba tanks were refilled.

We chatted to their crew members while waiting for clearance to proceed to Aldabra, little knowing that two days later they were to be attacked and captured by Somali pirates. All 15 tourists were dropped on a nearby island while the cat and her crew were taken back to Somalia to be held for ransom.

Somalia is a lawless country, with no effective government and a population ruled by tribes of starving people for whom piracy is a lucrative though dangerous business.

Millions of dollars are passing hands to free hijacked ships and crews in the area and the Seychelles government has appealed for international help to combat the growing menace.

We sailed through the area with all doors to the decks barricaded at night and a security team of former Gurka soldiers to repel would-be boarders.

An Aldabra giant tortoise wades across a lagoon. There are more than 120,000 of them on the isolated atoll. (0790758)

A warning was issued that pirates were active north of Assumption but we sailed up to Aldabra without incident.

What a relief it was to get there.

It was worth all the stress as we surveyed a beautiful tropical island with coconut palms giving shade to white sand beaches.

To my astonishment, the first birds I saw were crab plovers. These are large black-and-white waders that specialise in eating small crabs, which are abundant on Indian Ocean beaches.

I had seen 15 in the Seychelles a few years earlier and five on a beach in Kenya.

A trip to the UAE – on which crab plover was a highlight species – failed to find one, to the great annoyance of the group I was with.

They are uncommon birds, however, and finding them in any of their known sites cannot be guaranteed.

You can imagine my astonishment when first one flock of more than 100 birds flew past along the beach, then another, and a third. I estimated more than 500 birds were feeding on the beaches of just that one small area of Aldabra.

Going ashore on our only scheduled landing, we immediately found Aldabra drongo, Aldabra white-throated rail (a flightless bird) and Aldabra giant tortoises. There are 120,000 on the island, one of which was wading across a shallow lagoon.

These animals are occasionally swept away and can survive for months floating on their backs. It is believed the spread of giant tortoises around the Indian Ocean and even to the Galapagos Islands in the Pacific was by this method.

I had never understood how they could ‘fall’ into the sea but here was the explanation.

The following morning we were allowed a swift visit into the flooded caldera on the ship’s tenders and enjoyed wonderful views of nesting boobies, herons and frigate birds.

Shiver me timbers, lads… it was a visit I’ll never forget.