Waving

The sea is like a gigantic, deserted road. If we are on a boat, only the skipper seems to know the direction. For the rest of us it’s the unknown. Even when cruising Maputo Bay we experiment the oppressive sensation of how little we are in the middle of all that immense blue.

It always surprises me to find very small fishing boats sailing the big sea roads. When I cross with one of those miniatures I always salute the occupants, usually one to three fishermen. I wave to them with sympathy and respect for their courage, solitude and sacrifice. They wave me back with true joy and suddenly, in the middle of the sea, we feel very close

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