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Duncan Murrell - A Whale of a Time

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Duncan Murrell - A Whale of a Time

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  • This was the first little town that I had arrived at for some distance. Antanambe is a gateway town to Mananara Nord National Park. The people there were very inquisitive and friendly, particularly in this little shop where I enjoyed a refreshing cup of tea from a thermos with some snacks. I remember startling a small boy on the beach when I first arrived. He was playing with a football in the shallows and when he saw me he was so startled that he ran away and left his ball behind: it was if he had seen a ghost or an alien.
    Kayaking-Madagascar-journey21.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children51.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children52.jpg
  • It was hard to tell from my nautical chart exactly where I could expect to find protection from offshore coral reefs. There appeared to be stretches where I would have to take my chances and run the gauntlet on the open sea and then hope to find a way of getting back inside the next stretch of protective coral reef. Sometimes they abutted right up to the shore or there were too many breakers to negotiate. It was a constant maze that I had to negotiate and make the best choices for. I stopped at a village called Vinanivao to see if I could pick up some of the usual provisions like baguettes, biscuits, onions, tomatoes and bananas. I limped through the hot streets dragging my bloated foot beside me and having to seek out the shade because the hot sand was scorching my feet. It wasn’t just the sand and my bad leg that made me feel uncomfortable, as the locals only stared at me as if I was an alien invader. It was the first remote village that I had passed through where I didn’t feel completely welcome. Sitting down was always a great relief now, even if I still had to keep moving my foot around to find the least uncomfortable position. By contrast, the next village that I passed afforded me a memorable welcome even if I decided to stay in my kayak. I skirted the beach and was spotted by a group of young boys frolicking in the water. They came rushing over to me and started clowning around, plunging, splashing, wrestling and plenty of funny faces. I could have spent the day with those little clowns enjoying their simple life but my bad foot meant that I had to keep pressing on to reach a doctor. Sometimes the pain was so unbearable that I had to lay on my side and recite a rhyme until the pain abated. But eventually the sore on the back of my ankle burst open and erupted its suppurating contents, leaving a gaping hole, but at least the pressure and some of the pain was relieved.
    Kayaking-Madagascar-journey42.jpg
  • I was usually greeted with the chorus of “Vazaha” - foreigner, wherever I went, and was spotted by children, even if I was just passing by on a taxi-brousse.
    Kayaking-Madagascar-journey49.jpg
  • It was hard to tell from my nautical chart exactly where I could expect to find protection from offshore coral reefs. There appeared to be stretches where I would have to take my chances and run the gauntlet on the open sea and then hope to find a way of getting back inside the next stretch of protective coral reef. Sometimes they abutted right up to the shore or there were too many breakers to negotiate. It was a constant maze that I had to negotiate and make the best choices for. I stopped at a village called Vinanivao to see if I could pick up some of the usual provisions like baguettes, biscuits, onions, tomatoes and bananas. I limped through the hot streets dragging my bloated foot beside me and having to seek out the shade because the hot sand was scorching my feet. It wasn’t just the sand and my bad leg that made me feel uncomfortable, as the locals only stared at me as if I was an alien invader. It was the first remote village that I had passed through where I didn’t feel completely welcome. Sitting down was always a great relief now, even if I still had to keep moving my foot around to find the least uncomfortable position. By contrast, the next village that I passed afforded me a memorable welcome even if I decided to stay in my kayak. I skirted the beach and was spotted by a group of young boys frolicking in the water. They came rushing over to me and started clowning around, plunging, splashing, wrestling and plenty of funny faces. I could have spent the day with those little clowns enjoying their simple life but my bad foot meant that I had to keep pressing on to reach a doctor. Sometimes the pain was so unbearable that I had to lay on my side and recite a rhyme until the pain abated. But eventually the sore on the back of my ankle burst open and erupted its suppurating contents, leaving a gaping hole, but at least the pressure and some of the pain was relieved.
    Kayaking-Madagascar-journey43.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events24.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children54.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events23.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children56.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children55.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children57.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-children53.jpg
  • Myanmar-Burma-people-events22.jpg
  • It was hard to tell from my nautical chart exactly where I could expect to find protection from offshore coral reefs. There appeared to be stretches where I would have to take my chances and run the gauntlet on the open sea and then hope to find a way of getting back inside the next stretch of protective coral reef. Sometimes they abutted right up to the shore or there were too many breakers to negotiate. It was a constant maze that I had to negotiate and make the best choices for. I stopped at a village called Vinanivao to see if I could pick up some of the usual provisions like baguettes, biscuits, onions, tomatoes and bananas. I limped through the hot streets dragging my bloated foot beside me and having to seek out the shade because the hot sand was scorching my feet. It wasn’t just the sand and my bad leg that made me feel uncomfortable, as the locals only stared at me as if I was an alien invader. It was the first remote village that I had passed through where I didn’t feel completely welcome. Sitting down was always a great relief now, even if I still had to keep moving my foot around to find the least uncomfortable position. By contrast, the next village that I passed afforded me a memorable welcome even if I decided to stay in my kayak. I skirted the beach and was spotted by a group of young boys frolicking in the water. They came rushing over to me and started clowning around, plunging, splashing, wrestling and plenty of funny faces. I could have spent the day with those little clowns enjoying their simple life but my bad foot meant that I had to keep pressing on to reach a doctor. Sometimes the pain was so unbearable that I had to lay on my side and recite a rhyme until the pain abated. But eventually the sore on the back of my ankle burst open and erupted its suppurating contents, leaving a gaping hole, but at least the pressure and some of the pain was relieved.
    Kayaking-Madagascar-journey44.jpg
  • My friend and I came across this “stagnating” glacier in Glacier Bay and because it was stagnating there were ice caves that had opened up beneath it. A stagnating glacier is a glacier that is neither advancing nor retreating, but melting in situ, in totality. It was amazing being able to walk beneath a glacier although somewhat precarions because stones were being dropped from the ice as it melted. The colour of the ice with the light shining through it from above was extraordinary; it was definitely one of the most “other-wordly” places that I have ever been to. If you looked closely into the ice you could see and hear all of the tiny capillaries of melt water that were gradually draining the life from the glacier. I wondered how long it had been “alive” for?Geologists believe that Glacier Bay existed during a minimum of four glacial periods ending with the Little Ice Age, which has a 4,000 years old record, as the latest period. All glaciers in the park today are said to be remnants of this glacial period.
    Alaska-ice5.jpg
  • I tried to re-launch my kayak with the help of my local friends but every time I jumped into the kayak and tried to paddle out through the surf my kayak was swung around and I capsized, with my head getting rubbed into the sand. We eventually gave up and I made plans to be collected by a taxi and driven north to somewhere with more protection. My fully loaded, heavy kayak just wasn’t suitable for getting out through heavy surf and that was going to be a major limiting factor for the rest of my journey.
    Kayaking-Madagascar-journey5.jpg
  • I had a cold restless night on that windy beach, nursing the deep wounds inflicted on my feet and legs when I was wrestling with my kayak. I was stuck on a beach in the middle of nowhere wondering how I was going to progress. The next morning I was discovered by some local people from a nearby village who brought me water every day. I would make a fire and we would drink tea and have a lot of fun trying to learn each other’s language; one of them was a schoolteacher and knew some English. The first Malagasy expression that I learnt was “Tsara Be”, which means very good, and it became a mantra after every sip of tea, and would be greeted with fits of laughter followed by another chorus of “Tsara Be”.  I met fishermen who came down to the beach with their families to cast their simple fishing lines out into the surf and kept them refreshed with cups of tea and roasted peanuts. I had become a local attraction; a regular watering hole and social venue for the local people that promenaded the beach. <br />
My new local friends tried in vain to help me get out through the surf, and after the second capsize I knew that it was hopeless and was resigned to trying to find a car to drive me to the next town, Foulpointe, beyond which there looked the possibility of better protection from the big ocean swells. One man watched my gear whilst another one escorted me via Taxi-Brousse to Foulpointe where I was able to secure a car to come and collect me the next day.
    Kayaking-Madagascar-journey2.jpg
  • Palawan-people19.tif
  • Puerto-Princesa-festivals34.tif
  • Philippines-children2.tif
  • Myanmar-Burma-children2.jpg
  • The Jesuit missionary Ciamente Guillen founded Mission Dolores in 1721 on the coast of the Baja Peninsula about midway between Loreto and La Paz. There was a small ranch near the beach with these burros. The people were very friendly and helpful, allowing me to replenish my water supply from their well and there was an unexpected bonus; I arrived just when the mangos on their mango tree were ripe so for a small price I was able to stock up on a rare treat of fresh succulent fruit; truly manna from heaven in that barren place.
    Kayaking- Gulf-of-California49.jpg
  • Most of my kayaking and outdoor gear was used for many years, and occasionally, I treated myself to something new like this excellent Sierra Design tent. Most of my kayak dry-bags were well worn and scratched, but as long as I could keep repairing them I carried on using them. One of the biggest culprits for damaging my dry-bags were the pesky squirrels that always knew how to find their favourite snacks, especially peanuts! It was uncanny how they would nibble a hole straight through the coated waterproof fabric and heavy-duty polythene zip-lock bags exactly where their desired morsels were located. My cooking gear was certainly well battered and grubby with carbon, but all of my tatty gear and clothes had served a vital role for many years, and formed part of what was like a friendly family of very familiar objects that accompanied me on all of my epic kayaking trips.
    Alaska-camping-kayaking18.jpg
  • Three brown bear (Ursos arctos) siblings at a dump, Angoon, Admiralty Island, Southeast Alaska, USA.<br />
<br />
I often caught the Alaska Marine Highway local ferry to the native town of Angoon on Admiralty Island before paddling across to my camp at Point Hayes on Chichagof Island. I had to walk past the city dump to get to the town to buy provisions, and there were usually brown bears foraging there, and particularly three young siblings who had apparently lost their mother. They became quite familiar with me and recognized me as someone who didn’t provide them with any food; most people who drove to the dump were providing them with reject salmon. <br />
But one of the three young siblings was more aggressive than the other two and on one occasion it kept advancing towards me expecting me to provide it with something to eat. I decided to teach it a lesson, that people are dangerous, as indeed they are, particularly to dump bears because once they lose their fear of humans they are easy targets for hunters. I was carrying a red pepper bear deterrent spray but when I tried to fire it at the bear I discovered that there was no pressure left in the canister and the contents just trickled down my arm; it was out of pressure when I was under pressure! So I threw the useless canister towards the bear so that it would stop to investigate it and then I climbed on top of an old car. Bears are inquisitive like dogs and I usually carried a few stones in my pocket to distract any bears that might try to be too friendly.
    wildlife-7.tif
  • Small boy feeding the family dogs at Barangay Tagibinet, Puerto Princesa, Palawan, The Philippines.<br />
I stayed with this very friendly family while I was photographing Ugong Rock, a karst limestone pinnacle with cave passages leading to the summit. The city of Puerto Princesa has developed it as a new ecotourism destination. There is now a zipline connected to Ugong Rock.
    Philippines-children7.tif
  • I often caught the Alaska Marine Highway local ferry to the native town of Angoon on Admiralty Island before paddling across to my camp at Point Hayes on Chichagof Island. I had to walk past the city dump to get to the town to buy provisions, and there were usually brown bears foraging there, and particularly three young siblings who had apparently lost their mother. They became quite familiar with me and recognized me as someone who didn’t provide them with any food; most people who drove to the dump were providing them with reject salmon. <br />
But one of the three young siblings was more aggressive than the other two and on one occasion it kept advancing towards me expecting me to provide it with something to eat. I decided to teach it a lesson, that people are dangerous, as indeed they are, particularly to dump bears because once they lose their fear of humans they are easy targets for hunters. I was carrying a red pepper bear deterrent spray but when I tried to fire it at the bear I discovered that there was no pressure left in the canister and the contents just trickled down my arm; it was out of pressure when I was under pressure! So I threw the useless canister towards the bear so that it would stop to investigate it and then I climbed on top of an old car. Bears are inquisitive like dogs and I usually carried a few stones in my pocket to distract any bears that might try to be too friendly.
    Alaska-wildlife-bearAlaska-wildlifeA...jpg
  • Small boy feeding the family dogs at Barangay Tagibinet, Palawan, The Philippines.<br />
I stayed with this very friendly family while I was photographing Ugong Rock, a karst limestone pinnacle with cave passages leading to the summit. The city of Puerto Princesa has developed it as a new ecotourism destination. There is now a zipline connected to Ugong Rock.
    Philippines-children6.tif
  • My friend standing under a stagnating glacier at Wolf Point, Glacier Bay National Park and Preserve, Southeast Alaska, USA.<br />
<br />
My friend and I came across this “stagnating” glacier in Glacier Bay and because it was stagnating there were ice caves that had opened up beneath it. A stagnating glacier is a glacier that is neither advancing nor retreating, but melting in situ, in totality. It was amazing being able to walk beneath a glacier although somewhat precarions because stones were being dropped from the ice as it melted. The colour of the ice with the light shining through it from above was extraordinary; it was definitely one of the most “other-wordly” places that I have ever been to. If you looked closely into the ice you could see and hear all of the tiny capillaries of melt water that were gradually draining the life from the glacier. I wondered how long it had been “alive” for?<br />
Geologists believe that Glacier Bay existed during a minimum of four glacial periods ending with the Little Ice Age, which has a 4,000 years old record, as the latest period. All glaciers in the park today are said to be remnants of this glacial period.
    ice.tif
  • When I was camping on one of the Los Candeleros islets, I was sharing it with three ravens. They were rolling and tumbling acrobatically in the updraughts that were whipping up the precipitous face of the island. I have developed a special affinity with that most ubiquitous, intelligent and successful of all birds over many years in Alaska, where their amazing repertoire of calls is an integral feature of the ancient forests. I have even learnt how to mimic some of their calls and capture their attention. After a few days cutting the ice with my fellow residents one of them started flying out to my kayak to seemingly greet me whenever I returned to the island; it would circle overhead whilst calling out and then escort me back to shore.<br />
After a couple of weeks of familiarisation my glossy black friend vanished. A few days later I landed on a nearby beach at Ensenada Blanca to visit an American living in the local fishing village. As I stepped ashore I noticed a raven flying demonstrably towards me. I replied to its raven calls and it flew overhead and did a few rolls as if it was showing off. The acknowledgement was plain to see, rather like a dog wagging its tail. Then it flew ahead of me and proceeded to harass and dislodge the turkey vultures that were perched in the trees. After each successful assault it called out and then proceeded to dislodge another vulture in the next tree; within seconds the sky was full of screeching, disgruntled vultures! It seemed as if the raven was clearly intoxicated with its own sense of bravado, and maybe it was even trying to impress me. When I arrived at the American’s house at the end of the beach I told him about the hilarious encounter with my shiny black friend and when he looked out of the doorway to see if the raven was still out there he looked at me, laughed, and informed me that it was waiting outside for me, and sure enough it was perched on a cactus just a few metres from the door!
    Kayaking- Gulf-of-California61.jpg
  • My new American friend “Jose” came out on his small sailboat to join me on Isla Santa Catalina. Isla Carmen is visible in the distance.
    Kayaking- Gulf-of-California78.jpg
  • This natural spring was the first water that I had encountered since I left La Paz. There was a small trickle of water from above this pool and I had one of the most heavenly showers ever in that most welcome oasis. It felt strange to see so much lush greenery and living creatures after so many miles of dry arid coastline. I have always been a dog lover and throughout my travels I have befriended dogs, usually by feeding them and showing them some unfamiliar kindness. I teamed up with a dog from the ranch and he accompanied me on a hike up the rocky canyon, where I had to traverse one large boulder after another and often have to help my canine friend along the way. He stayed with me and slept at my camp with me right up until when I left. It had been nice to have a loyal companion for a few days but sad to watch him wandering along the shoreline rather disconsolately as I paddled away.
    Kayaking- Gulf-of-California51.jpg
  • I became very familiar with this small local ferry because I usually used it to get to one of the small native communities like Kake, Angoon and Hoonah, from where I started my kayaking trips that often ended up at Tenakee Springs, where I boarded it to return back to Petersburg. It became like a trusted old friend that I enjoyed seeing cruising past my various campsites, and looked forward to being reunited with at the end of my arduous trips, and then relaxing in relative comfort on my way home to Petersburg.<br />
MV LeConte is a feeder vessel for the Alaska Marine Highway System, built in Sturgeon Bay, Wisconsin in 1973 and commissioned in 1974 by Alaska's ferry system. LeConte is the older sister ship to M/V Aurora, and both serve as feeder vessels that pick up passengers in small communities such as Hoonah and take them to larger regional communities (this process is colloquially known as the "milk run").<br />
In the case of the LeConte, it primarily serves in the northern portion of the Alaskan Panhandle in between Sitka and Juneau, but it also occasionally ventures all through Southeast Alaska as well, LeConte and the M/V Aurora are the only AMHS vessels able to serve the communities of Angoon, Pelican, Tenakee Springs, and two of the three vessels (the M/V Taku also is able to access these ports) to serve Hoonah and Kake. This quality is due because of these vessels' small sizes thus making them both vital assets for the ferry system and the residents of these rural villages.
    Alaska-Ferry97.jpg
  • My friend and I came across this “stagnating” glacier in Glacier Bay and because it was stagnating there were ice caves that had opened up beneath it. A stagnating glacier is a glacier that is neither advancing nor retreating, but melting in situ, in totality. It was amazing being able to walk beneath a glacier although somewhat precarions because stones were being dropped from the ice as it melted. The colour of the ice with the light shining through it from above was extraordinary; it was definitely one of the most “other-wordly” places that I have ever been to. If you looked closely into the ice you could see and hear all of the tiny capillaries of melt water that were gradually draining the life from the glacier. I wondered how long it had been “alive” for?<br />
Geologists believe that Glacier Bay existed during a minimum of four glacial periods ending with the Little Ice Age, which has a 4,000 years old record, as the latest period. All glaciers in the park today are said to be remnants of this glacial period.
    Southeast-Alaska-glaciation11.jpg
  • This was an unforgettable wild encounter! The sea was very cold so I had to haul myself back into my kayak to warm up, with my legs dangling over the side and my flippers slapping the surface like a stranded fish. Moments later I was surprised to see another kayaker paddling towards me; It was an American called Corrie who told me that he had just made the long sea crossing from Isla San Jose. It was great to be joined by another kayaker and even greater when I discovered that he had a wetsuit! There was no holding back now so I returned to the underwater circus. I discovered that there was one juvenile sea lion that was bolder than the others. At first it was trying to bite my mask and then it was nipping my chest as if it was trying to suckle from me; I think that the black neoprene wetsuit had transformed me into a marine mammal! This apparent attempt at bonding with me was taken to the next level of hilarity when all of a sudden I was aware of its flippers being wrapped around my body from behind and then feeling the little clown clinging tightly to my back! I reached behind me to feel it and it was very smooth, soft and spongy, making it conform to the shape of my back like an orthopaedic back-support. I continued swimming along with this unexpected diving accessory still firmly clamped to my back like an air cylinder. It eventually released me and disappeared momentarily; then Corrie exclaimed, “look at your kayak!” and to my amazement I watched it hauling itself onto the back of my kayak! It promptly settled down for a snooze on the most comfortable and exclusive bed available. Corrie climbed into the cockpit of my kayak to take some photos of me with my new friend, or should I say foster child, as photographic evidence was surely required. Corrie tried to evict the stowaway with my paddle, but the little rascal nipped at it and promptly slid down inside the cockpit to confirm its status as a stowaway but it was eventually evicted after much protest.
    Kayaking- Gulf-of-California38.jpg
  • This was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. It was a beautiful day that started well when I encountered a group of playful sea lions. They were inquisitive as always and hung around for quite a while. Most of them eventually swam away but one very inquisitive big bull remained with me for a while. It circled me and dived down beneath my kayak so that it could look up at me: then suddenly it erupted out of the sea right in front of the bow of my kayak, and there was the sudden jolt of eye-contact with his big bulging wild eyes that penetrated deep within my primal being. He then swam away and I continued paddling out to the middle of Seymour Canal. Then suddenly I heard a commotion in the distance, and when my eyes homed in on the source I saw the tell-tale dorsal fins of orcas, and then to my dismay I saw my friend on the surface near them: he was being attacked! I frantically paddled out towards the developing melee and wondered what I should do, and even contemplated trying to rescue him. But of course nature had to run its course, and I had to be grateful that I had a ringside seat for such a dramatic wild spectacle, as the orcas continued to ram the sea lion at high speed: I could see an orca cutting a confused furrow of water before colliding with its quarry in a big explosion of spray. The sea lion then reappeared at the surface gasping for breath, which tugged at my heart strings so much that I wanted to intervene, but there was a hungry family of predators that had to eat. Eventually it failed to resurface and it was all over...... but it wasn't because a pod of humpbacks happened to stumble onto the killing stage and they too were attacked by the orcas. I paddled right alongside the conflict and observed the whales rolling onto their sides and flailing their flippers to try to thwart their attackers. The orcas eventually gave up and disappeared along with the whales leaving me all alone highly charged and shaking with adrenaline.
    Southeast-Alaska- orca3.jpg
  • My friend and I came across this “stagnating” glacier in Glacier Bay and because it was stagnating there were ice caves that had opened up beneath it. A stagnating glacier is a glacier that is neither advancing nor retreating, but melting in situ, in totality. It was amazing being able to walk beneath a glacier although somewhat precarions because stones were being dropped from the ice as it melted. The colour of the ice with the light shining through it from above was extraordinary; it was definitely one of the most “other-wordly” places that I have ever been to. If you looked closely into the ice you could see and hear all of the tiny capillaries of melt water that were gradually draining the life from the glacier. I wondered how long it had been “alive” for?<br />
Geologists believe that Glacier Bay existed during a minimum of four glacial periods ending with the Little Ice Age, which has a 4,000 years old record, as the latest period. All glaciers in the park today are said to be remnants of this glacial period.
    Southeast-Alaska-glaciation9.jpg
  • My friend and I came across this “stagnating” glacier in Glacier Bay and because it was stagnating there were ice caves that had opened up beneath it. A stagnating glacier is a glacier that is neither advancing nor retreating, but melting in situ, in totality. It was amazing being able to walk beneath a glacier although somewhat precarions because stones were being dropped from the ice as it melted. The colour of the ice with the light shining through it from above was extraordinary; it was definitely one of the most “other-wordly” places that I have ever been to. If you looked closely into the ice you could see and hear all of the tiny capillaries of melt water that were gradually draining the life from the glacier. I wondered how long it had been “alive” for?<br />
Geologists believe that Glacier Bay existed during a minimum of four glacial periods ending with the Little Ice Age, which has a 4,000 years old record, as the latest period. All glaciers in the park today are said to be remnants of this glacial period.
    Southeast-Alaska-glaciation8.jpg
  • I have always been a dog lover and throughout my travels I have befriended dogs, usually by feeding them and showing them some unfamiliar kindness. I teamed up with a dog from the ranch and he accompanied me on a hike up the rocky canyon, where I had to traverse one large boulder after another and often have to help my canine friend along the way. He stayed with me and slept at my camp with me right up until when I left. It had been nice to have a loyal companion for a few days but sad to watch him wandering along the shoreline rather disconsolately as I paddled away.
    Kayaking- Gulf-of-California53.jpg
  • This was my first really memorable day kayaking with humpback whales in my Klepper kayak in the early 1980s. It was a beautiful sunny day and the sea was flat calm. There was a pod of humpback whales feeding in the area all afternoon. I managed to capture a lot of good photos on this day with my Olympus OM1 because the conditions were so perfect and the whales remained in the same area for a long time. This was my first photo that I ever saw published in a book on whales. I stumbled across it in a book shop in Juneau, Alaska, which was a great thrill and gave me a lot of encouragement to continue photographing the whales. But the most rewarding encouragement for me was when most of the main conservation organisations, like the WWF, Greenpeace and Friends of the Earth started using my whale photos for their Save the Whale campaigns.
    Alaska-humpback-whale-sounding2.jpg
  • I stayed in this nice little cabana on a dock, where I could moor my kayak, on the outskirts of Foulpointe. It was good to have a modicum of comfort for a night or two. I made friends with the poor family living in a very basic hut nearby, which was very dark inside. They were very hospitable to me, and seemed to be genuinely honoured that a foreigner was so interested in them. They made me fully appreciate how poor most Malagasy people are, but still maintain their dignity and good spirits.
    Kayaking-Madagascar-journey9.jpg