The turquoise seas of the Arabian Gulf glistened in the morning brilliance of yet another summers heat wave. The breeze enjoyed in most corners of the world where sea met land, non existent in these parts. A stifling atmosphere, dense in humidity, thick with sweat.

The pearling dhows of Bahrain’s waters motored from their off shore anchors toward shore. Like dinosaurs of an age long past, dhows were the traditional boats of Arabic Seas. Cumbersome in look, they were not the agile speed-boats of a modern age, but the slow moving carriers of dates, fish, equipment and animals, along the coastal regions. Today they were used for fishing, pearling and the one thing that did bring in money; tourism.

Another day of diving yet to begin, riches awaiting the lucky, or not. Cleaning, washing of rigging and equipment, the days chores began on deck as the dhows slowly motored to waiting jetties for crew, supplies and tourists.

Khalid Achami, dhow captain, had pearled these waters around the island nation of Bahrain for several years. His looks defied his title; most dhow captains looked as beaten as the weather which lashed their vessels. Dressed and smelt as rough as their catches, but Khalid Achami was none of these. He had come to pearling late in life. A life of success and riches, lost to an era simply coined the Global Financial Crisis. Today he sought freedom of mind and spirit somewhere between captaining his dhow in the vast Gulf waters, and the silence he enjoyed diving for its treasures; pearls.

Pearling had become his life. It offered solitude and peace; time to think, deep beneath the normalities of regular life. It was the edginess, the risk, the choices he loved. As a free diver, it was his choice for how long to dive; his choice about how much pain he suffered by allowing his lungs to burn with each and every dive. The tightening and constriction, his body begging to draw a gasp of fresh air, at any cost. It was this intensity, this choice, he adored. He often wondered what it would be like never return to the surface, to hold the breathe just that few seconds longer than in-built sensibilities instructed. This was no suicidal tendency, just an inquisitive one. He found knowledge within his thoughts. Life in the working world had brought with it different types of pain and anguish, these ones where by choice. Pain of loss he knew well. Loss of everything, cash, cars, concubines. That was pain. Holding your breathe and the feel of burning lungs, pure exhilaration. Bahrain and its waters offered freedom, choices and a lifestyle of his own choosing. This was his paradise.

Pearling, like most loves, did not pay the captain’s mounting bills. Once a prized and honourable trade, pearling had suffered in Bahrain's waters, as with much of the Gulf region. Land reclamation, abuse of the waters from the oil companies, modern life and its decimating ways of natural resources, had all taken their toll on the pearling industry.

Today, as with most, Khalid Achami paid bills with tourist dollars. Eager to dive, eager to pearl, to try their luck seeking riches beneath the seas. This was a legal form of gambling in the Islamic world. Risk versus reward. Which would win, with each single dive?

Tourists were easy cash for the captain, finding a pearl or not, they were happy to sit waterside, sun bake and be fed, to find a pearl was just a bonus on their vacation.

Today the pier was all but empty. A solitary traveller stood by as the dhow moored dockside, not the usual dozen tourists. The Middle Eastern heat of this time of year, making hotel pools more desirable than anything on the tourism map.

“Khalid Achami, Dhow captain, pleased to make your acquaintance,” he stretched his hand, to shake that of the young man.

“Hey, cool dude, yeh, I want to find a pearl,” the young man shook the hand stretched before him.

“No, not dude, son,” Khalid was used to these troubled lost teens who thought everything was ‘cool’, everyone a ‘dude’. They needed to be taught respect. He held the young man's hand tight, pulling him closer. 

“I worked hard to become a captain of this dhow. My dhow! I would be pleased to welcome you aboard. But, My dhow! My rules! Respect that! ” he pushed the young man backward. 

Still holding the outstretched hand he stated again,” Khalid Achami, dhow captain, pleased to make you acquaintance.”

Visibly shaken the boy fumbled words, “Yes Sir, me too Captain, pleased to make it, your acquaintance that is, Sir.”

Happy at the response, the captain ushered him aboard, “Welcome aboard, lets find a pearl then, shall we.”

A strong sun overhead toyed with the waters stretched before them. The dhow glided effortlessly through the still waters as the captain spoke of the history of the pearling trade, of Bahrain, to his young adventurer, “Bahraini pearls are believed to be the best in the world. It is said that the beauty comes from the special forces of the two seas, fresh water and salt. That’s where Bah-rain also gets its name; “two seas” in Arabic. Bahrain pearls have been renowned since the Dilmun empire - thousands of years.”

“Come on Captain! Enough with the history lesson, Lets get to the cash bank,” the young man stood, impatiently pacing the deck.

“This can either be a very long day for you or an enjoyably enriching one. Either way I’m already paid for your excursion. I don’t care which. Why don’t you just sit, calm down and learn something on our way to the pearling banks,” speaking as he motioned for the boy to sit. “Why are you so scared to learn something! So in a hurry for the prize but not willing to endure the work before it?” asked the captain.

The young boy sat, rolling his eyes. “Okay enough! You sound like my parents. Continue, I’ll listen.”

“For nearly one hundred years, from the mid 1800s until the depression of the 1930’s, thousands of divers pearled these waters searching for a white gem more valuable than diamonds. What the depression did not kill, oil discoveries did. Oil was easier than free-diving for a small white gem, and pearling never again found the same lustre in the eyes of either the buyers or the divers. Today there is less than a dozen oyster beds that haven't been commercially harvested. Cultivated pearls are illegal so it is still possible to find great pearls, just no one really wants to. Modern life has made things far easier than pearling ever was.” Achami, adjusted the rigging as he spoke.

“Excellent! But are we there yet,” the amateur pearl diver professed as he now strode the dhows decks again, growing impatient with his history lesson.

“Yes we are, welcome to Umm al Layaal, or Mother of the Families, the best pearl bed there is,” the captain yelled, turning off the motor, pulling in the rigging and preparing to anchor the dhow.

Stripped of his shirt and sporting only his bathing shorts, the young adventurer stood at the dhows edge keen to start the adventure for riches.

“Impatient aren’t you son? Wait till I anchor,” proclaimed the captain. ”Before we dive let me give you a quote…” he was cut off.

“Oh God, enough with the schooling, this is my vacation. Time to find a pearl… please,” he yelled, leaping into the clear waters shimmering below.

As he surfaced he heard the captain yell above him, “… a quote of Balzac; “'in diving to the bottom of pleasure we bring up more gravel than pearls.’”

He dove again, silence beckoned, so too did the adventure of the treasures below.

It had become part of the pearling tourism ritual for those seeking the adventure to also spend time learning about the industry. This was not merely eco-tourism by nature for wealthy tourists seeking to feel good about themselves, this was a way the Bahrain people could teach respect, history and culture for those who sought the adventure. This was true ecological tourism. Meant for those with respect for nature, not a trendy bi-product of corporate tourism. For two days before the boy had dove, he spent time ashore attending classes; history of the natural pearl, and on ecology, biology and conservation. 

The boy understood why but this was the reason he had had enough of the verbal side of this equation. The course was mandatory for those who sought to pearl dive, part ecological part informative. It prevented mass tourists from simply destroying the pearling beds while at the same time teaching tourists how to select an oyster, how to open one and to know where to find the pearl inside it.

For hours, the captain and student held their breathe, dove and scoured the pearl beds for likely homes of the prized gems the boy sought.

By afternoon's end the boy boarded the dhow breathless and disillusioned. Of thirty potential oysters plucked from the ocean bed, he had found nothing larger than a blister pearl, a tiny lump worth nowhere near the dollars he had thought he would make.

“You brought me to a stupid pearl bed, there aren’t any here,” he yelled at the captain as he too boarded the vessel.

“You did not listen to me did you before we dove. I told you... in diving to the bottom of pleasure we bring up more gravel than pearls.”

The captain tossed the boy a towel. “If this was so easy, everyone would be out here earning their fortune. Like striking oil, panning for gold or winning the lottery, its just not as easy as dreamers would believe.”

“Here,” the captain held out his hand a handed the boy an oyster. “Open it.”

The boy took it from the captain's hand and threw it with all his force into the sea.

“Why did you do that?” the captain screamed. “That was the one.”

“Whatever! I opened dozens of oysters and nothing. That would have been the same!”

“You miss the point to life kid. It's not about the pot of gold, it's about the adventure on the way there. Enjoy the trip. Let me say this in a way you might understand in Star Trek terms; 'it's not the destination but the journey that matters.’ In your case; if you search for the pot of gold you may end up finding exactly what you wanted, but it may be worthless.”

The captain stood before the boy. “Before we left the jetty on shore you told me you wanted to find a pearl. You found it, probably several blister pearls right?”

“Yes, but...” he was cut short.

“You did not ask to find a real natural pearl or a pearl worth a million dollars you just said you wanted to find a pearl. You travelled to Bahrain because it was filled with pearl divers and you wanted to be one of them. Congratulations son, you are one of them. You found a pearl. A calciferous concretion. Worthless in the eyes of a gem buyers, but the value that you have received by travelling to the shores of this island, the time you have enjoyed here, the people you have met, the adventure of it all, the diving, the hunt, the find. That’s where the value lay, son.”

The captain continued towelling himself dry. “Riches do not always come with monetary value, my young learned friend. Riches come from life. I’m sure you feel a little cheated.”

“A little? You think old man.” The young student scuffed his feet and threw the blister pearl into the Gulf waters. “I dove for five hours for a worthless piece of concrete.”

“If that’s what you think son, then you have learnt nothing here.” The captain threw his towel, turned to the motor, keying its ignition. “What you should have seen in that white pearl, worthless or not, was what you had learnt over the past few hours. The freedom you enjoy in the water today, the time by yourself. Many people would pay thousands of dollar to live this life. You see no value in it, but that’s where you are wrong.”

He cranked the throttle on the motor bringing the dhow to life. “Life is not about being the richest, the best, the biggest, or the even the most respected or well-known. It is about fulfilling your own dreams and being whatever you want to be; but being the best at it that you can. That is what makes a man rich. If you seek money in everything that you do, you will end up poor. Poor of heart, mind and soul. But if you seek to do things for the enjoyment, for the passion, the love and the experience, then young Sir, you will reap the rewards of life, the riches. The true pearls that life can send your way. One pearl of wisdom can truly make you a richer person than any strand of pearls ever could. Remember that throughout your life son. Open your eyes and you heart my young friend, let the realities of life inside and stop this 'dude', 'cool' and 'sick' garbage that you speak. Be a real person and speak from knowledge, not from jargon learnt on the internet or school-yard. Be worthy of acquaintances that you make, leave a lasting impression on people that you meet and make them say 'wow', that was some kind of guy, when they depart your company. Seeking riches by diving for a singular pearl to get you out of debt will never make you happy, nor satisfy you for life. You can be worth a million dollars and you can have a million dollars. Both quite different. I’d prefer to meet a poor man who was worth a million dollars than to meet a rich man 'with a million dollars.' The first would be an interesting conversation and an intriguing discussion, the other would be an arrogant bore.” As he stopped speaking the dhow pulled alongside the jetty. 

The pair shook hands to say goodbye, the young tourist eyes welling with what looked like tears. “Thank you captain for everything,” he said, shaking hands.

“Your welcome my friend, I have enjoyed your company and I hope you remember just some of what I have spoken. “ He pulled the boy closer a gave him a manly hug, “feel free to call me Khalid.”

The young adventurer held tight to his teacher, “no sir, you are right, you have taught me so much more in a day than I think I have learnt so far in my short life. You have my respect sir, for always, thank you Captain.”

“Okay enough with the lessons, but one final pearl of wisdom for you my friend something for you to reflect upon on your life’s journey. Something that only pearl diving can make you truly understand; life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.“ The captain grasped the young sailor's hand, pressing a firm white ball into its palm. “Here you have earned this. Don’t throw this one away though.”

The two parted company, the captain boarded his dhow, setting sail for his home port. As he watched his friend sail away the young boy looked at the pearl held tightly in the palm of his hand. He waved as his teacher sailed away not knowing if he saw him or even looked back. He had come to the island nation of Bahrain seeking an experience in the search of pearls. At its culmination, he stood on the pier with more pearls than he could have imagined. One worth a small fortune, and many pearls of wisdom from his friend the learned captain. Pearls worth not forgetting.

“What a country, what a vacation, what a gift,” he thought.

Both types of pearl had come from the turquoise seas surrounding Bahrain’s shores, a land truly of two seas, wealth and wisdom.