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An Ocean's Point of View

Where the water meets the shore is the edge of the world, either in the rough collision of waves against rocks that tells the story of resistance and erosion or in the soft lapping and gentle wash that dresses the sand, with a fringe of foam like lace.

The power of the ocean is not just in its waves, but also in the feelings it evokes, from the foreboding to the ebullient. If we look to the east across the Atlantic we can see fearsome waves piling up and crashing in, and if we look to the west we see, in the lee of our islands, tranquility; sunsets, sailboats and fishing nets spread out to dry.

The Caribs and the Arawaks were the first settlers, they worked their way up the island chain from South America and came to Nevis in canoes. Later came the European explorers arrogantly declaring this the “new world”. Then came the dark cloud of slave ships from Africa, a traumatic heritage from which this nation rises.

Here on Nevis, in the early mornings, fishermen head to sea in the predawn stillness that builds anticipation in the uncertainty of dreams, remembrance and wakening, and the tension of our history brakes when the sea birds wake and the first rays of the morning reach like fingertips across a lightening sea.

The ocean knows our story well.

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