'Look, dolphins!' says our guide.
And there, sure enough, at the foot of a towering cliff in the direction of her outstretched arm, was a small pod frolicking in the waves. We head for them at full throttle, the skipper and his mate whistling and clapping to attract their attention above the roar of the engine.
Miraculously, they choose to disport with us. We watch, enthralled, as they speed alongside the dhow, cresting the waves with wild abandon. And then, unexpectedly, one of them turns on its side just beneath the surface to gaze back at us.
The effect is electrifying.
A look of curiosity?
I sensed an accusation – it is a gaze that has haunted me since.
They slip away from the dhow shortly thereafter. The skipper kills the engine as the game abruptly ends, and we scan the waters to see where they surface next. But they have disappeared into the deep – fleet and silent as shadows in the night; and the vast expanse of empty waves in their wake seems indescribably lonelier and more desolate than before.
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