A gentle breeze, the leaves shake gently, tiny waves sweep
over the water creating ripples and patterns as the boats rock graciously on
the water, just another afternoon at the bay.
Screams of children
fill the air as they enjoy an afternoon at the swimming pool, as for me I am
just sitting on a bench overlooking the sunset and absorbing every inch of the
view.
A sail boat pulls into the marina, the people in the boat
work hard to manouvre the boat around other boats scattered neatly on the
water.
A Jet ski pulls in slowly leaving a white stretch of water
behind him, creating waves that gently splash the rocks lining the bay.
Masts strech into the silver grey sky, each mast
representing a sail boat on the water. From afar the masts seem to interlock
and the ropes weave into each other. It's just an illusion.
Boats of different sizes sway to and fro, the catamarans
spaciously thrown around the small and medium size sail boats.
As I turn my head I see Mamoora, Djewe, Strider, Grand blue
and other boats which have no names but just numbers. Each boat is meticulously
parked in front of the household, I am sure these homes don't come cheap.
As I
turn the other side two men chat. They speak in vernacular language throwing in
a bit of French here and there. One is topless, he holds a funny posture and
is sitting on the rocks with his legs resting on the rocks. As I wonder what's with the
funny posture, I take a closer look. As I scan his surrounding I see a bucket,
seconds later I see him pulling
something then as the French say "voila!" it dawns to me he is
fishing. I realise he is fishing without a fishing rod, comfortably with just a
line .The other man in khaki shorts and a red cap and beard with patches of grey, rests one leg
on the rock with one hand resting on his
knee while the other rests on his back. He gazes at the water and once in a
while throws a glance at his coleague as they chat away. They laugh away as the
sails shake smoothly from the gentle breeze.
Behind me are two coconut trees. The leaves sway graciously
from the breeze as they expose their fruit. The coconuts hang in bunches of
two, three and six. One can notice that some of the fruit was picked.
An car engine goes off behind me, the man in the red cap is
heading home and his friend continues fishing. A few minutes earlier a car had
pulled in, it was three young boys, they chat away as a can of beer rests
beside them. A young man in fancy sunglassses sits next to me on the other
bench chewing on his mobile phone he gazes into the sunset.
