Seven Tides

7 The Tide Returns

 The community here is small and closely knit. I see most of the inhabitants on a daily basis. Even so, Yanca always greets me with a wide, grinning smile of surprise, as if this is the first time we've seen each other in a long time.

"Boontoo! How is your life?" This is the Manyan nickname Yanca gave me because I am constantly writing in my journal. It means, 'the one who scratches leaves'. He always wants to sit and talk, and of course eat. I ask him about other tribes in the area, but he is vague with his answer. The only thing he will say is that the Manyan split from a larger group many years ago because of disagreements on certain practices. Instead, he would much rather talk about life in Portugal, and the difficulties of living on a ship.

After two weeks, the captain finally brings the horse ashore. He has kept both the horse and Gabriel on the ship until now as a precaution. He doesn't want any further errant misadventures. Gabriel is the best horseman of the crew and knows how to retrieve animals safely from below deck. We lower a ramp into the hold, and Gabriel guides the horse out, holding tightly on to the reins. Once on deck, we slip a harness under its belly and run a rope out to a block and tackle on the yardarm. It is a risky affair hoisting a jerking and kicking large animal over the gunwale and down to the water. The ship heels to starboard with the horse's weight swinging over the side. The incoming tide complicates the process. The men shouting orders and the rolling waves cause the wide-eyed, jittery animal to flail about, tangling the harness in its legs. Gabriel dives into the water and cuts the horse free of the twisted ropes. It immediately swims for shore, dragging Gabriel along side, hanging tightly on to the reins.

The entire village turns out for the spectacle. They still don't know what a horse is. My crude artistic attempts at drawing one in the sand, bring riotous reams of laughter, and becomes a guessing game, with everyone drawing various figures of deer, pigs, and monkeys. The mood dramatically shifts when Gabriel leads the snorting and prancing animal up from the beach. The men are in awe of such a huge, muscular creature, and how easily we control it. The women and children will not even approach it, preferring instead to huddle together near the relative safety of the forest. Yanca wants to know more about the horse's purpose.

He points at the fire pit, "Horse. Eat?"

"No," I say, making jerking and thrusting movements, "sit and ride."

Yanca scratches his head in confusion. His face displays a mixture of emotions.

"We'd better give them a quick demonstration," Gabriel says as he grips the mane and swings up onto the animal's back. The horse rears up in anticipation of the much-needed run. The natives jump back and move away in surprise. Gabriel gives the animal a quick kick, and they charge forward, spraying sand everywhere as they race to the far end of the beach. The magnificence of horse and rider working together as one is something truly magnificent to behold. The controlled power they display captivates the small band of natives, who are now all standing together at the edge of the jungle. The horse and rider charge back at a good gallop, skidding to a stop just in front of Yanca.

He laughs and claps his hands in delighted approval. "Good! Again!"

The early morning light stretches out across the bay catching row after row of slow rolling waves, turning their crests into golden hued lava. It collects and splashes up the black granite walls of the pinnacles that guard the bay. When the sun finally emerges above the horizon, brilliant orange and gold beams burst forth, instantly painting the ribbed clouds above and the mirrored surface of the bay below.

On days like these, Muala, Piala and I spend the mornings foraging on the beach, scouring the distance between the rugged breakers that enclose the bay on either end.