Suspended in the sky like butterflies, they brighten the mammoth bows consumed by the distances sailed.
Prodigal in healing the wounds of the wooden shell that shows signs of suffering.
Their big eyes watch with the respect and devotion of those who dream one day of feeling the big wheel slip through their hands.
They circle from one side to the other, soaring so high that they disappear into the blue.
Their shadows are reflected on the sides, projecting imaginary figures of captains of the high seas.
Young Said brushes lines of color following the wavy shapes of the keel.
The hand moves the brush but the mind is always in the midst of the sea.
His eyes are those of a ship dreamer.
Dream, captain dream.
“Their shadows are reflected on the sides, projecting imaginary figures of captains of the high seas.”
Safaga is one of the last shipyards along the Red Sea coast. On cold, bright winter days it teems with husks of vessels that have been sailing nonstop for too long. Each boat has sailed the sea for countless miles and today it can finally rest and refit. Seeing them in this condition, it is difficult to imagine that after a few days they will return to the sea. Squads of boys suspended in the air spin around the skeleton of the boat to give it the lustre it deserves. These young people dream of one day becoming captains of one of these vessels.
Massimo Bicciato, photographer and traveller.