The shallow turquoise seagrass bay of Abu Dabbab with a green sea turtle visible grazing near the surface
← Red Sea Coast

Abu Dabbab Bay

"Everyone promises you a dugong here. Almost nobody actually sees one. I did, and I'm still slightly insufferable about it."

A shallow seagrass bay north of Marsa Alam where I floated for two hours waiting for a dugong and got one, which almost never happens to anyone who tells you it will.

Abu Dabbab is a single curved bay about twenty minutes north of Marsa Alam by road, and it exists almost entirely because of one animal: the dugong, a genuinely rare marine mammal that grazes on the bay’s dense seagrass meadows and has made this unremarkable stretch of coastline into a pilgrimage site for anyone obsessed with seeing one in the wild. I’d read enough trip reports before going to know the sightings are inconsistent — some visitors get lucky within twenty minutes, others spend three mornings in a row seeing nothing but turtles and disappointment. I went in with low expectations specifically so I wouldn’t be crushed.

The bay itself requires almost no equipment to appreciate, which is part of its appeal — you can walk in from the beach and be floating over seagrass within a few meters, no boat necessary, no dive certification required. I spent my first hour there doing exactly what the guidebooks tell you to: swimming slow, obvious patterns over the meadow, scanning the grass line for a shadow that moves differently than the current. Green turtles were everywhere, grazing with an unhurried confidence that made me jealous of their indifference to my presence, and I told myself that would be enough of a payoff for the morning.

A green sea turtle grazing on seagrass in the shallow, sunlit water of Abu Dabbab Bay

Then, close to two hours in, a shape came up from deeper water that moved with a heaviness nothing else in that bay has — a dugong, maybe two and a half meters long, grey and barrel-bodied, working its way along the grass with its strange downturned snout rooting through the substrate. I stayed a respectful distance back, as every sign posted on the beach instructs, and watched it feed for perhaps four minutes before it drifted off into water too murky to follow. I came up gasping, not from exertion but because I’d forgotten to breathe properly for the last minute of it.

The bay has a reef further out that’s worth a look if the dugong doesn’t show — sea grass gives way to coral bommies scattered with morays and the occasional eagle ray — but I’d be lying if I said anyone comes to Abu Dabbab for the reef. This is a place built around waiting, patiently and quietly, for one specific animal, and the waiting is the entire point.

The wide, shallow seagrass meadow of Abu Dabbab seen from the surface, stretching toward deeper blue water

When to go: Year-round is possible, but early mornings before the day-trip boats and snorkeling groups arrive give the calmest water and the best odds of an undisturbed sighting. Enter the water quietly and swim slowly — dugongs spook easily.