There are a million-and-more ways to be...‘with’ the sea... its not just about seeing it, living close to it, sailing through it and wading into the water. When I was 8, my father took us to a seaside village called Poste La Fayette in Mauritius. Because he was a generous man, he decided to invite as many family members as he could to the little cottage he had rented. It was the first time I wore a bikini -- I was free, the air was hot, the sea like jelly, undulating gently, clear, blue. The sand, grit-like, clung to my hair. My eyes burned from the glare of the sun on white sand. I was happy, running through knee deep coolness. I met a cousin -- what a name she had! Marie-Ange (Mary the Angel). Perhaps I was in heaven. Droplets of saltiness clung to our legs. Like warm ice-cream, the sand melted between our toes. Through half closed eyes I saw my sisters, laughing and splashing each other, whilst the elders sat by under the filao trees, carefully laying out the day’s bounty of homemade sandwiches, gato piment (chilli bites), chutneys, roast chicken bits. Swim and then eat they said. You don’t want to swim after you’ve eaten. You’ll sink! Plus, swimming makes you hungry. I still haven’t gotten over my hunger. I’ve sailed, canoed, waded through, floated on and watched the sea for years. I can’t get enough of tidal zones, I long for reefs, I have spoken to hundreds of people who live next to and with the sea. I want to hear more...