Adrift among the Spice Islands
In a channel between two islands, off the southern tip of Zanzibar, we nearly collided with a dhow.
The ancient vessel – with a single, intent fisherman aboard – sailed across our bow with a stealthy grace that belied the choppy water. It came so close and went by so silently that it had the sensation of a wildlife encounter. My kayak partner and I stopped paddling and watched it go.
‘They’re just so lovely,’ Simon Watson said in one of his weird voices. He sounded like an elderly British lady talking about muffins. We sat for a moment, bobbing in the ink-blue water, watching the dhow sail into the distance.
With it gone, it was just us, the sea and the sky. And what a sky.
