Finally I notice a petite blonde approaching, closely followed by a tall, brown-haired guy who is carrying a huge backpack. There's no time for introductions; a smile and a quick handshake and we're on the boat, eager to spot birds.
One can sense that these guys love what they do. There's no time wasting; as soon as they're on board they start unpacking and equipping themselves with the necessary paraphernalia. Helen reaches in her backpack and fishes out some papers and a small but voluminous book - the Collins Guide to Bird Watching - and everyone gets out their binoculars. Wasting no time, Helen goes back on deck, setting the course on her GPS. Meanwhile, down in the cabin, I strike a conversation with Andre, who is still getting out his camera, and ask him what it is exactly that we are expecting to see, since I've never been on such an excursion before. He tells me about the Yelkouan Shearwaters and their amazing journey that takes them from Malta to Greece, then from Crete to Egypt and to North Africa, and back to Malta. He then shows me some photos of injured birds with gaping holes in their wings, and x-rays of broken skeletal wings. These are all protected species, he adds.
On deck the sun has risen and its soft, orange glow is bathing the distant harbour in a magical warm light. The view is magnificent, and makes getting up early for it well worth the effort. The harbour is barely out of view when Peter asks me to steer the vessel as he checks the course with Helen. "Just follow a fixed imaginary point", he says.
With the course set, Peter guides the yacht while Helen, Andre and I scour the seas with our binoculars in search of winged animals. We have been sailing for almost an hour now and we haven't spotted any birds so far, but it's an enjoyable trip nonetheless. The weather is perfect; the sun is shining, and the vast blue sea is kind to us, rocking the boat gently and producing slight waves which create a foamy white surf as they playfully caress the vessel. The only things flying in the sky, however, are clouds. Eventually Andre spots a bird, and then we spot a couple more but that's it. I take the helm again while Peter eats a banana, and I spot a couple of Corys to our right, which I excitedly shout to Helen about.
The bird sightings are meticulously reported on what at first seems to be quite a complex sheet. Reporting is done on a 5-minute basis, with the current latitude and longitude punctiliously logged for each entry. Various other important information is also recorded, such as the flight path and the birds' behaviour. Any spotting of fish and other marine animals is also noted and I'm told that this helps MEPA and Nature Trust in their own animal welfare campaigns.Helen tells me the story behind the project. The Yelkouan Shearwater Project is an initiative run by Bird Life in cooperation with various other government authorities and conservation organisations, whose goal is to protect Malta's population of Yelkouan Shearwaters. The aim of the boat trips is to gather information and pinpoint which areas at sea around the Maltese islands are important for these seabirds - that is why precise recording of bird presence is required - so that these might eventually be designated as Marine Special Protection Areas.
After a while we spot the first dolphins. They swim majestically across the open sea, surfacing briefly before plunging back into the water. They are too far away to be visible with the naked eye, so we have to use our binoculars. A few minutes later however we spot another group and these are more playful, joining our boat in a wonderful sea dance, whimsically playing with us, zigzagging and streaming their way across the sea, briefly surfacing above the water and disappearing in a graceful dive. Watching the frolicsome performance is truly an amazing experience.
It's not all fun and games however, as Helen is quick to point out. Today we are lucky with the weather, but observations have to be carried out no matter what the conditions are: in rain and wind observers have to stay on board in order to spot the up till now elusive birds. Spending a day at sea in less than favourable conditions can really take its toll on you and is surely not for the faint-hearted, Helen assures me.
But to me this is all new and exciting; spotting dolphins and birds with binoculars, photographing them and running like crazy on the small deck in order to record the sighting, under an idyllic scene of warm bright sunshine in the midst of a clear blue sky, at one with nature and in the great company of three very interesting people.
At about midway into our excursion we begin to hear a strange crackling noise and Peter gives me a baffled stare. His puzzled reaction confirms what I had feared: we have engine trouble. The sound subsides for a moment so we decide to sail on, but it soon crackles back to life and Peter decides to have a look. Wearing goggles he dives underwater and retrieves a piece of nylon mooring rope that had stuck to the propeller. Back on board he starts off the engine and a triumphant smile crosses his face. 
The sun is setting and our excursion is almost over. We have a slightly more eventful closure as we spot flying fish and some more Corys. We drop Andre off at Comino – he's going to spend the night at a small observatory there – and we head back to Paradise Bay. Once there I will have to get off, but Peter and Helen will stay on board, spending the night and the following day at sea. They will soon be joined by other bird lovers who, come rain or shine, spare some of their time for a piece of tranquility on board the boat, in order to secure a piece of tranquility for the birds that visit Malta.
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