NO PERMISSIONS

“You do not have permissions. This is not for you.”

The conflict flashing in the fisherman’s eyes was painful to witness. This was an area mired in poverty and we’d paid his crew a week’s salary to take us to a secluded stretch of coast for the day. The money was already tucked away in a plastic jar tied with a string around his neck, and he was clearly having trouble stomaching the thought of giving it back to us. But the local authorities had found out about our recon mission the night before and put the kibosh on any boat trips. Fishermen could do what they liked, but tourists were grounded – something about a handful of local sightseers sinking and drowning a few months before. The risk of having his boat confiscated by the police wasn’t worth the amount we’d paid him, even if it were exorbitant by local standards.

That didn’t stop us from