Photo: Fishermen or Pirates?
Marie was worried, I could see it in her face. The speeding skiff boat was approaching very quickly on our starboard beam and was now on a constant bearing. We'd been watching them for about half an hour. We could see four men onboard and one of them was holding what appeared to be a weapon, but it was difficult to be sure at this range. They changed direction on to a parallel course and their speed slowed to track us. I was worried too - these were standard pirate tactics and our current position put us about 30 miles off the Yemen coastline, well within the piracy danger zone. They turned and approached us and I told Marie to stay calm...
The skiff came alongside with four ragged and beaming fishermen. They could have been Yemenis or Somalian, we couldn't tell. They wanted to give us fish and insisted they wanted nothing in return. They showed us the huge sharks they had caught and we all laughed, they because they had laughing faces, Marie and I because we realised we were stupid.
They gave us a great big tuna and Marie gave them my favourite knitted Rastafarian cap, my treasured one from Jamaica. "Good trade" the skinny black man said, smiling, and they sped off, the shabby helmsman wearing my hat...
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