This stopover wasn’t planned, but we had to pull in and wait for more favorable weather conditions to continue on to South Africa. It felt a bit like being imprisoned, because we couldn’t go ashore, due to the wind being too strong to leave the boat unattended in the anchorage. But there are worse prisons to be in, as this place is so rich in color. A week’s wait, split between two anchorages, while we had time to get a flavor of this island and its inhabitants and contemplate the deep colors of the landscape. A landscape of dunes and of sand, shades of paradise, light, deserted and yet at the same time, alive with the rhythm of wind and the clouds, the rain and the sun. We imagined and admired the shapes and sculptures which drew themselves on the surface of the dunes. When the winds dropped, we enjoyed an amazing spectacle every morning: the fishermen with their nets setting out from the beach and letting themselves drift back in. They don’t have motors, only oars, and their rhythmic action is accompanied by their cries, powerful enough to block out the noise of the wind. Sometimes they need to dive in if their net gets caught on a rock. And then they start again. It’s a family affair, where women and children do the work too. You really need to see it to understand. Then the boats come around P’tit Filou, offering fish, squid, octopus. Smiles, curiosity and meeting people. We bartered, as we had no local currency, though our supplies were starting to run low. A few of the boats had sails made from fabric and recycled plastic. At nightfall, there was silence, and a few lights flickered to the sound of far-off music. We spent two weeks almost alone in the world, on the island of Bazaruto, with no internet, but with the time to read and take photos…
Boat Barramoundi 470
Who: Lilou, Pierre, Véro.
Where: Ile de Bazaruto, Mozambique, Océan Indien.
