A LONG dry spell had come and parched the villages of the Essequibo Coast. Old Manu’s village, Dartmouth, was especially dry; even the trenches were as hard as the mud dams. The villagers disliked the hot days, but loved the nights. Moonlit nights they adored! Whenever the moon was out, the villagers sat in their yards or on their steps and gazed at her for hours.

It was the night of the Full Moon. Old Manu, who had been a fisherman for over forty years, slipped the strap of his quake across his shoulder and settled the fish container on his back. Then he took his cast-net in his strong right hand and headed for the sea.
Usually, Manu would go straight to the village koker channel and begin casting his net, or sit by the koker and wait for the tide to rise. On that night, though, he often stopped to look with wonder at the beauty of the moon. She had not too long stepped out of the Atlantic, and was resting on the tops of some courida trees. She looked like a huge, juicy, spotless orange, and Manu thought he could eat her.
Her brilliant light covered the entire village as if it were day, but Manu thought that she shone for him only. That had to be so, for their eyes had met, and he could see himself so plainly that she must have been examining him. But thought he could have stood there with her for the whole night, he had to go.
As Old Manu neared the koker, he thought he saw someone. There was nothing strange about that, as other men also fished by night. But he could not tell for sure that it was a man! The person stood there, backing Manu, and as still as a post he was. The old man stopped. He could tell the other fishermen, on the darkest night, by their shapes, and how they walked. But, was this man or woman? He had heard stories of mermaids who visited kokers on moonlit nights, and the thought made him tremble with fear and joy. He was afraid that he might be looking at the creature from the deep, but he was joyful, because of the story people told about her.
The story was that the lovely being, whose top half was human but who was fish from the waist down, visited kokers on brilliant moonlit nights. Nobody knew why she did this, but it was said that she sat there combing her hair, and that anyone who could get her comb would be rich for life, since she would bring him fortunes to get it back!
The old man itched as he waited. Then, he inched forward. Suddenly, the figure moved and he stopped. It was all in white, and the clothes did not look like a woman’s, but, Manu was not sure, for though the light of the moon shone brightly on it, the figure backed him.
Manu was tempted to shout at it, and to throw a piece of dry clay, but he decided to wait. The being moved again, heading for the sea. And that was when Manu knew! It was a woman! Her walk had told him so. It must be a mermaid! No! That could not be, for mermaids could only swim!
Manu felt as if he were boiling, but only his sweat poured down his back and stomach. He followed slowly, not knowing how he did it. When she got to the edge of the water, she stood there, watching the clear silver sea. Then, several times, she bent and dipped the water in both hands and let it fall again.
Manu had put away his quake and net and had crept close, but he had not yet seen her face, since she still backed him. However, he was in doubt about her; her hair was not long and flowing, nor was there a comb in it! Was she a mermaid? Whatever she was, Manu’s beating heart had slowed, and much of the sweat had dried.
He had never seen the sea so beautiful. In the background was the sea of moon light; above was a sky, as clear as a child’s painting. And, most of all, there was the woman who dipped the water and let it fall.
Without warning, she walked into the water and stopped. Manu’s heart pounded. She walked farther in and stopped again. Manu thought that she was sure to hear his heart beat. Lying flat on the mud and sand, he crawled closer to the water.
Then, like a flash of light, she disappeared.  Manu leapt to his feet. She reappeared, as suddenly as she had vanished. Manu trembled. She disappeared again, and he walked quickly to the edge of the water. Once more, she rose very quickly, and Manu crouched. She walked farther out and stopped. She looked at the moon. Next, she looked at the wide sea. Manu crouched lower, because he knew what she would do next. But he was too late! She turned to see the view behind her, and saw him, and, quicker and more smoothly than a meteor, she vanished beneath the water.
Manu had had one brief glimpse of her face, but, years later, he still told the story of the most beautiful woman he had seen on the most beautiful night. He told of his doubts about what she had been, and how sad he was that he had not got heaps and heaps of money from her.
He said, though, that he had been made eternally rich, for he would always have the great beauty and the mystery of that silver moonlit night in his heart. (Reprinted from Kyk-Over-Al #45, courtesy of Mr Earl John)