Suakin smiles
Living among the ruins, in immaculate shanty lean-tos or plastic and corrugated iron shacks are some of the friendliest and most inquisitive people we have met during our sojourn by boat.
The brawling sea: storm sailing the Indian Ocean
Esper’s bow disappeared under water, shooting the sea into the cockpit. I was astonished at how warm it was. Jamie released the sails, then furled them, to give the wind a smaller target. His hands bled from rope burns, and the din of whipping lines and snapping canvas made me flinch. But we were upright.
Searching for mermaids: Bradt Travel Writing Competition 2011
Dolphins peel off into the navy blue sea, and a hitch-hiking tern flies away. Balancing high up on the boom, Jamie peers into the now crystal water, navigating by sight – and the seat of his pants.
Arabian Sea dawn: Telegraph Travel Writing Competition 2010
I lie back and look up. There is no moon. We have sailed far enough south to see Scorpius crawling across the sky in its dazzling entirety, home to my favourite star, the fiery red Antares, “rival of Mars.” Beautiful. A small shooting star switches on and off for a second: blink and you’d miss it. I make a wish. The night wraps itself around me.
