In the afternoon we follow a long reef that runs parallel to the island and experience more remarkable sightings, including a number of turtles – they rise up slowly from the sea bed, hold steady in the water column to inspect us and then in one smooth motion inject a turn of speed and disappear into the dark depths. Each one stops us in our tracks.
The sun is starting to drop as we turn for camp, kissing the hills with a golden-pink hue. As the light fades, thousands of small crabs in temporary shells scuttle across the sand; while larger ones creep cautiously from burrows, checking that the coast is clear before heading for the water’s edge to feed. The sea is mirror calm and we sit on the sand with a local Walia beer watching the moon rise high into the sky. We have found Paradise; only here it’s pronounced ‘Eritrea’.