Then another boat. And another. A flotilla of vessels.
and then they began to fish. The man in the rear stood and began to cast out nets...a long net...the men rowed a wide circle as the gave out line.
The men work for shares of the catch...the boat owner and the caster of nets getting larger shares.
But some prefer their own skiffs. Cloth sails stretched between poles cut from the forest. Catching the wind. Seeming so fragile.
Am reminded of the America cup race maybe going on in San Francisco Bay...the billionaires throwing their money (or is it, in some way, our money?) onto sailing ships that will carry their names to glory. No glory here...just a day's work done, a trip through the waves.
There are, of course, other boats that don't get off the beach for the day.
And those that stand ready to take tourists to even more perfect beaches...but, then, how perfect do they need to be...
We went to Samana, the town, for lunch. A new marina has been built for boats with middle and upper class pretensions...at least for this island country. The look good against the blue waters of the bay.
Yet I am not sure these yachts get us any closer to the experience of being on water than those "barcos" that are rowed and sailed to extract a daily livelihood.
