Th holiday ended and returning volunteers slowly trickled back to their home islands; those willing to stick it a little longer, to see how the political situation develops for us, whilst others - like myself - had already taken the decision to leave our contracts. Four were already back enjoying a mini-heatwave in the UK.
To pass the few days until my brother was due to arrive in Maldives I was convinced to join Jon and Joe on their cargo boat back to Kurendhoo, a small island in Lhaviyani Atoll, just north of Male'. It was still an eight hour boat ride, stowed away amongst boxes of oranges destined for some swanky resort. I read Les Miserables by the starboard reading light, and attempted to sleep on a wooden crate. It was one of the more bizarre nights of my life, and also contained the only moment of serious danger in my fourteen weeks, when we narrowly avoided a horrific collison with a speedboat. Around midnight some mental driver decided that, with a full ocean to choose from, he had to cross immediately in front of our path. It may have been nothing more than a game of high-stakes chicken, but probably closer than he intended. He must have been travelling at something like 60km/h, and missed a crash by mere feet. Our captain killed the engine, which probably prevented it. Jon and I were braced for impact, although it would have done no good. At that speed any collision would have been catastrophic, a fireball of flying debris and many casualties. Our fellow passengers slept on, unaware that we nearly became subject of a minor sub-heading in the BBC News Asa sub-topic. It took some minutes for the adrenaline to subside.
Somehow Jon and Joe managed to roll off the boat and into school for Day One of the new term. I opted to sleep for the rest of the morning. That afternoon we enjoyed coffee and fantastic hedukka short-eats at the local MDP cafe, and started preparations for a night-fishing expedition - i.e. us clumsily failing to snag any small bait fish in the harbour, until the Maldivians got so exasperated they took over and promptly landed two dozen. We set out trailing lures for tuna (I got 3), but as it got dark the real fun began, with waited lines and live bait, after barracuda and elusive red snapper. With 8 fish to my name, bettering my previous night-fishing record by 7, it was a highly-successful and enjoyable trip.
On my second day on Kurendhoo we snorkelled along the fantastic island reef shelf, and then turned up for the daily football game, from which I soon retired with a growing blister, exhaustion, and probably some mild heatstroke. I don't know how Maldivians can keep running around in 35 degree heat; I was knackered by the warm-up (shooting practice). But Jon and Joe have acclimatised, and battled through the match whilst I got extremely lost on their island.
That night I returned to Male', after a few great days, and another island ticked off the Maldives list. Eleven down, and just two thousand, one hundred and eighty nine to go. It was the same boat, but this time much emptier, so I could nab one of the highly-prized mattresses in the cabin, and bunk down to sleep most of the way back. In such luxury the journey simply flew by.
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