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The stars gleam against a moonless night sky. From the top deck I can see the village fisherman with their torches hunting for squid on the low tide. It’s midnight but they have mouths to feed. I try to get a glimpse of the whitewash whenever their lamps rise toward the horizon. We are only 200 metres from the coral shoreline. When the waves detonate onto these shallow reef shelves, the sound of it pulses excitement through my veins. I look at my watch and time the rocking boat to get the swell period, 12 seconds. It’s building. As I try to sleep I’m awoken every couple of minutes by something sliding around or falling. A plastic storage box suddenly comes hurtling towards me as we roll over a slowly rising swell. Boxes on boats shouldn’t have wheels. Nothing on boats should have wheels. I look up trying to work out where the Southern Cross is to pinpoint the wind direction. I know tomorrow’s daylight will reveal what darkness simply can’t, and I sleep peacefully anticipating the dawn arrival.


Bali Belly Issue 005