Pate and Manda Toto Islands

Mangroves are dominating the scene, the blue calm water splashes on the sides, the wind is pushing us forward, three sailor balance the boat, the captain is smoking weed and steering this nautical wonder based on centuries of Swahili culture. Water is coming in, the sailor has to get it out with an old bucket. The Mzungus are chilling. The sun is blazing down on us. Timmy is wearing the turban from India to protect his increasingly unprotected head skin. The wind is gone - we're in the middle of a channel between two Islands. A big ship with too many passenger passes us. The captain throws a rope. We're getting pulled up the channel. The channel ends. The favourable wind pulls us directly to Pate. The sea is getting a bit choppier, but in a good way.

Pate Island comes closer. No sign of civilization, besides a dock with 3 vans on it. The boat is trembling - we have arrived on the seashore. The sailors bring out there cooking equipment. Charlie is getting stoned with Teea. Fish is cooking on the wooden grill, donkeys yyyaaaahhh from the tree next to the dock. The water was refreshing and the food is ready.

No movement in the group, everybody has licked there fingers and is concentrating on digesting. Dawn is coming up: Charlie wants to see some relatives he has on this island. It is a 20 min walk through the bushes on a beaten path. The village is pristine. The elder people are sitting on benches. The kids are playing with tyres. The mzungus feel out of place and stick to each other. The kids curiously check us out - we start to play with them. They roll there tyres up and down the village and eventually out of it. Digital cameras flash, kids are screaming to see them self on the display. Everybody settles down to see the sun doing the same thing. Cool. We have to head back to the beach and set up the tent before darkness kicks in. On the way we collect firewood. Mzungus open wine bottles and sit around the fire. The tent has written "UNICEF" on it. A cold night is coming up. I sleep outside the tent next to the dwindling fire.

Morning has broken, headache. The tide is low and the boat stuck in the sand. We have to wait for high tide. Sleeping, chatting, bathing are the preferred time killers. Tide is here. We are sailing to Manda Toto with headwind, which means we have to zig zag are way back. It takes a long time. The sun is relentless. Finally, Manda Toto is just in front of us. Sand between the toes. After taking a dip we make sure we wont run out of wood like the night before. In the evening we try are luck with fishing. The fishing line is wrapped around a wooden plate and has the essentials: hook and weight. Timmy looses confidence while standing in the mud, in the dark and getting hooked in the roots of the mangroves regularly. Impatience, frustration - shit don't work man. We decide to relocate to the beach. Small waves are gently covering are feet. After two hours we catch18 fish, small but big enough and two of them from me. Feeling manly. After cutting out the intestines and covering them with oil, salt, lemon and garlic they are on the grill. Everybody seems happy with the situation. We are the only ones on the Island. Crabs invade are tent regularly, the girls are screaming, the boys are laughing and hiding their disgust of the archaic looking animals. No liqueur around means everybody sleeps early. Timmy sleeps badly and wakes up before dawn. He takes care of the fire. He heads of to walk around the island. Long stretches of beaches ahead. Dead mangroves cast a long shadow in the perfectly flat sand. Further ahead the beach gets more narrow pushed together by the force of the Indian Ocean and the wind shaped rocks of the island. Beautiful. Mangrove forests ahead. I enjoy the loneliness. I wade through the shallow waters. Crabs, sea worms, mosquitos but mostly crabs. Tide is coming and makes me think I should turn around. Nope, not happening. I can walk out a hundred meters without being knee deep in the water. The light is amazing. Water is getting deeper, the mangroves suddenly thicker. Am I close to where I started? Decision time: Do I go through the mangroves, which could get ugly very fast or do I go through the deep water and try to pass? I am in the water to my chest. Maybe this was not such good idea. The depth is steady. I am advancing. Feels like being in a Vietnam movie walking through a river with the camera (gun) in relative safety above the head.It's done, I'm back, everybody is already up and ready to leave. We board and head back.