The Gateway of the Sea Maidens

On the western edge of Socotra, where towering rocks seem to guard the sea, lies Ras Ersal, a place few fishermen dare approach after sunset. The waters there are strange, shifting between deep indigo and shimmering silver, like a mirror reflecting another world.

The islanders say that Ras Ersal is not merely a rocky headland, but the Gateway of the Sea Maidens—a place from which the creatures of the sea rise on moonlit nights to sing, to cry, and to tempt sailors.

Legend tells of a young fisherman named Maher bin Khamis, brave but stubborn, who feared neither the sea nor its old tales. On a still night, he set out in his boat toward Ras Ersal, ignoring the elders’ warnings: “Do not sail when the sea sings, for that is the voice of the maidens.” Maher smiled and replied, “The sea is my friend; its song will not frighten me.”

As he neared the headland, the winds began to swirl gently around the boat. Then came a sweet, heavenly voice. Turning, he saw three sea maidens glimmering in silver, their hair flowing over the waves like strands of seaweed. One called his name, beckoning him.

Spellbound, Maher drifted closer, forgetting his nets, his oars, even himself. But as he reached out, the singing changed to a piercing shriek. Their beautiful faces twisted into terrifying forms—half human, half fish, with eyes glowing like fire. A sudden wave struck the boat, and Maher was swallowed by the dark sea.

At dawn, the other fishermen found his shattered boat among the rocks, strands of green hair clinging to its timbers like seaweed. Since that day, no one dares approach Ras Ersal at night.

It is said that the sea still carries Maher’s voice, and sometimes, on full moon nights, he can be heard singing with the maidens. When the eastern winds blow, strange circles of light appear on the water, believed to be the necks of the sea maidens searching for sailors who dare answer the call of the sea.

Even today, Socotran fishermen leave coconuts or incense on the shore before sailing, offerings to the maidens in hopes that the sea remains calm and claims no lives.

Thus, the legend of Ras Ersal endures, a testament to the magic of Socotra—a land where reality and fantasy intertwine, where the sea speaks, and where the sea maidens still wait for those bold enough to hear their final song.