The coral reef shimmered beneath the wide shafts of angled sunlight cutting through the turquoise water. Coral, in impossible hues, swayed, undulated or stood rigid, surrounded by brightly colored fish.
One coral looked exactly like a pile of potatoes dumped on the ocean floor. Appropriately, it was called viazi, Swahili for potato. There was another resembling a circle of fingers, swaying gently. If you looked long enough, you could see fish swim into the middle as smaller fish got to work ridding them of parasites. Like an underwater car wash, sometimes there would be a couple of fish, patiently waiting to enter.

Red and gray starfish, sea slugs and spiked black sea urchins dotted the sandy bottom.
Large schools of small fish swimming as one, would dart jaggedly when the bigger fish loomed.
A black and white snake gracefully swept the sandy bottom as a moray eel peeking out of a ledge, smiled, exposing his row of razor sharp teeth.

Jesse blew out the water from her snorkle and lifted her mask. She smiled to see the old man fishing from his hollowed out sailboat, as he had done for most of his life.

The friendship was an unusual one, but it suited them fine.

He was a human library of the Zanzibar history and she was interested in all he had to say. His stories always began with the prelude...before the revolution or after the revolution, setting the time period of each story.

One story that he had told her more than once was when he was much younger and fishing for calamari, he had lost his Father's pendant. He was a poor fisherman and it was one of the few possessions that he had.

After snorkling on the reef, Jesse climbed into the boat and picked up her own fishing line. A piece of wood with filiment wound around and a little hook. It was perfect for catching the colorful reef fish. A flick of the wrist sent the line about forty feet and would hopefully come back in with a fish.

The friends enjoyed a simple lunch of coconut, chapati and mango as the boat rocked in the gentle waves.

Jesse told him stories of Canada and the life and culture there. The old man had never left the island of Zanzibar in all his 85 years. Canada fascinated him and he would ask so many questions to get an idea of where his friend came from.

He pointed to a patch of random ocean and explained with a chuckle that when he was young (before the revolution) his friends and he would come out at low tide and a full moon and have a game of soccer on the flat ocean floor. Jesse believed him and imagined that unlike street signs, as in Canada, this islander had a mystical and exact built-in GPS.

Jessie decided to snorkle once more and dived into the cool water. She dolphin kicked below the water to inspect beneath a ledge, when something caught her eye.

She reached out for the slightly green, shiny pendant swaying on the coral.
Kicking her way to the surface, she lifted her mask and laughed aloud at the insane coincidence. Just as he had described, she had found, after so many years, the missing pendant with the golden eagle and Arabic writing.
Hoisting herself into the boat, she held it out to the old man who took it reverently with tears in his eyes.
"Assante", he whispered thanking her.

Now they both had a mutual story to share.

With a bucket full of colorful fish and the sun over their shoulders, he once again hoisted the worn, patched sail. Jesse took the helm and finding a reference on land, three tall coconut trees, leaned back and watched the old man clean the fish expertly.

He always gave her half of the catch in that little beat up bucket. The small jewel-colored fish, were the sweetest delicacy. She jumped out of the boat and slung her snorkling gear over her shoulder.

Jesse walked down the beach, then turned around to wave at the old man. He sat on the edge of his wooden boat, his feet in the water, his eyes skyward. She did not realize it would be her last time to see him alive.

Three days later, Jesse joined the villagers to say farewell to their beloved friend. As Jesse approached the coffin, she saw his cherished pendant, once again, around his neck.