Hassan still has no dhow to captain

Hassan was our skipper. He’d take us in his dhow out on the Indian Ocean for trips along the Kenya coast, south among the secret wave breaks or north towards Formosa Bay. Once he took my brother on a proper voyage to Lamu island, which needed several days even in calm weather. With his big toe steering the tiller, the full lateen sail over us, Hassan told us about the fabled Bajuni islands north of the Somalia frontier, about whales and ambergris. He could neither read nor write but he could navigate by the stars. When we dropped anchor and jumped into the water to dive among the coral heads, Hassan would lie on the gunwales and to pass the time he sang tarabu Swahili folk songs. Or he bickered with his slightly mad brother Ali, who wore a big afro and talked loudly to himself as he sat with his legs dangling over the bow.