Actual Date of Events: Early October
I had some great experiences in Tahiti being able to practice my French and communicate to the locals. I have to mention one funny story that occurred while I had the illustrious job of dismantling and cleaning the oven in order to assure that it operated properly for our voyage. While on the deck of the boat washing the many pieces, four very large young Polynesian women were hanging out on the beach and swimming along the shore. They were very upfront and felt very comfortable shouting at Josh and I from the shore. After no reply from us as we attempted to ignore them, they took it upon themselves to swim the distance from shore to our boat. This turned out to be quite amusing.
When they came near and began climbing up the latter on the back of the boat, captain Dave, Josh and I all looked at each other in amazement. Marina happened to be out at this particular moment and it was unfortunate since she seemed like the only one who might be able to diffuse the situation. As these three large Polynesian women boarded the boat (topless I might add), Dirty Dave insisted on staring at their chests as Josh hid below in the galley. There English was not very good, so it was left to me to try to diffuse the situation with my French. Anyways, it was quite hysterical and I’ll save the rest of the story for another time.
Finally departing Tahiti our first destination was Moorea, an island a day sail away from Tahiti. Upon arrival it was clear that this small island, populated by only a couple thousand people was a much more beautiful island than Tahiti. It was snorkeling here that I saw my first stingray and was able to swim close behind capturing its beauty. We also had a great time exploring the island, and free diving for spider conch shells. Marina made the mistake of leaving her conch on the deck a couple days too long and upon the attempted extraction, which required boiling the shell and skewering the arm, much gagging ensued. The conch filled the boat with such a horrendous smell that I awoke in a cold sweat dashing to the deck for oxygen. In fact I think it was the most sick I felt the entire passage to New Zealand. The shell was immediately hurled overboard.
After spending only a few days in Moorea we were off to the Cook Islands, but first we had to complete the task of filling our water tanks. Since our boat was not equipped with a water maker, we were confined to the 150 US gallons of water that could be held in the tanks. Filling these tanks in Moorea proved to be a challenge, since there were no docks able to supply clean drinking water on the island. Instead it required that Josh and I shuttle fresh water in the two five gallon jugs aboard using the pathetic red sinking dinghy. As you can image this took a great deal of time, 15 trips back and forth using a small hose and a filter on shore that seemed to only trickle.
When we first arrived on shore via the dinghy to seek a water source, we were confronted by what appeared to be a gang of Polynesians. However after some odd interactions they offered us jugs of beer and were very interested in our experiences and life at home. One of the funniest things was their interest in American music and Josh’s reaction. As they would list off American artists, Josh would continually interrupt and list off Canadian artists that he thought they might be familiar with. It was so hysterical and the situation still makes me laugh. It was one of Josh’s most defining Canadian moments on our trip. These teens also told us how they had a local street-fighting ring in this exact location we were at and stated that their “crew” had won against the rivals. They had achieved the rights to the territory and were very proud of this accomplishment, this I also found funny especially since they compared it to the film Fight Club. Regardless, after 15 trips and several jugs of beer with the locals ashore we were drunk and decided to stay one more night.
The locals invited us back later and stated that there was to be a party in the same spot that evening. Excited to speak more French I assured them that I would come ashore again later that evening and party with them. Returning to the boat with our last jugs of water, Marina and Dave seemed jealous that we had consumed so much free alcohol. In fact I think I can recall hearing Dave mumble in his nasally voice, “assholes”, but Josh and I simply laughed it off as usual. After these fifteen trips to shore, the dinghy was nearly sunk, half full of water and was in need of being drained. As I raised the bow to drain the water out the stern plug, I should have been conscious that I was flooding the motor. This was a moment of irritation, as later in the evening when I tried to go back ashore to party I was unable to get the motor started. As a torrential rainstorm began, I refused to give up and tried for an hour in the heaviest rain I’ve ever seen to get the motor started. Meanwhile Dave, Marina, and Josh laughed as I returned a failure, drenching in shame.
The next morning after some very amazing experiences in French Polynesia we departed for the Cook Islands. This passage was around 600 miles and would take us 5 days; averaging roughly 120 miles a day and having a steady wind on the beam the entire sail. It was a surprisingly peaceful passage and a great first introduction to sailing.
I liked it.
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