Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Yet at the time it seemed entirely logical that if we were heading out on to the Indian Ocean to see the renowned magnificent Nungwi sunset, then it would be time for dinner by the time we came back to shore. So it made perfect sense to change out of beachwear and into something more appropriate before we made our way to the boat – got to be the correct decision, right? Wrong.

“We’re here for the sunset cruise”, I called to the pre-occupied boat guys, trying to elicit some kind of response. A couple of them looked up so we gravitated towards them.

“Where you stay?”, one asked. As we told him, he pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket and frowned for a moment, then beamed. “Ah, Meester…..Sharman?”

Ok so we were in for our “private” sunset trip, but next came a certain level of consternation as Matey pointed to his boat, which lay at anchor about three hundred yards from the beach. By the look on their faces, these guys had given absolutely zero thought as to how their customers were going to get from strand line to boat through a long stretch of waist high water….and then who shows up but us two, dressed more for evening than beach.

A quick boat crew committee meeting came up with a perfect solution: they would sit us in a kayak and three of them would push the kayak out to the boat. Next problem, this kayak had water to a depth of about four inches sloshing around in the bottom, thereby submerging the seats. No matter, says Matey, and by sign language gets us to perch with our bums on the top of the seat backs, feet on the seat itself. It’s completely clear that absolutely nothing could possibly go wrong.

The first 50 yards or so went without incident, but, of course, as soon as we hit the first incoming wave bigger than a ripple, the kayak, being pushed bow first head on into the sea, flipped up into the air and somersaulted both of us into the sea.

Now, clothing is one thing, it will dry soon enough. But it just so happened that at the moment of somersault, I had Michaela’s camera in my right hand and my mobile phone in my pocket. It wasn’t possible to save both, but presence of mind won and I sank to the sea bed with my right arm thrust into the air and the camera, consequently, stayed dry. The mobile however never recovered and was to die a slow death over the next few days.

The three boat guys were very apologetic. They were also struggling to contain their laughter at our expense.

From that point, the sunset trip was uneventful. By uneventful, we mean that the clouds rolled in, the sun disappeared, and for the only evening in our entire time in Nungwi, there was not a hint of sunset. Still, sitting there in soaking wet clothes with a broken phone was fun…. 

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Yet at the time it seemed entirely logical that if we were heading out on to the Indian Ocean to see the renowned magnificent Nungwi sunset, then it would be time for dinner by the time we came back to shore. So it made perfect sense to change out of beachwear and into something more appropriate before we made our way to the boat – got to be the correct decision, right? Wrong.

“We’re here for the sunset cruise”, I called to the pre-occupied boat guys, trying to elicit some kind of response. A couple of them looked up so we gravitated towards them.

“Where you stay?”, one asked. As we told him, he pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket and frowned for a moment, then beamed. “Ah, Meester…..Sharman?”

Ok so we were in for our “private” sunset trip, but next came a certain level of consternation as Matey pointed to his boat, which lay at anchor about three hundred yards from the beach. By the look on their faces, these guys had given absolutely zero thought as to how their customers were going to get from strand line to boat through a long stretch of waist high water….and then who shows up but us two, dressed more for evening than beach.

A quick boat crew committee meeting came up with a perfect solution: they would sit us in a kayak and three of them would push the kayak out to the boat. Next problem, this kayak had water to a depth of about four inches sloshing around in the bottom, thereby submerging the seats. No matter, says Matey, and by sign language gets us to perch with our bums on the top of the seat backs, feet on the seat itself. It’s completely clear that absolutely nothing could possibly go wrong.

The first 50 yards or so went without incident, but, of course, as soon as we hit the first incoming wave bigger than a ripple, the kayak, being pushed bow first head on into the sea, flipped up into the air and somersaulted both of us into the sea.

Now, clothing is one thing, it will dry soon enough. But it just so happened that at the moment of somersault, I had Michaela’s camera in my right hand and my mobile phone in my pocket. It wasn’t possible to save both, but presence of mind won and I sank to the sea bed with my right arm thrust into the air and the camera, consequently, stayed dry. The mobile however never recovered and was to die a slow death over the next few days.

The three boat guys were very apologetic. They were also struggling to contain their laughter at our expense.

From that point, the sunset trip was uneventful. By uneventful, we mean that the clouds rolled in, the sun disappeared, and for the only evening in our entire time in Nungwi, there was not a hint of sunset. Still, sitting there in soaking wet clothes with a broken phone was fun….