We motor through the night again. I am still in so much pain that I don’t sleep well and decide that if sleep is not on my body’s agenda, then it’s not worth waking Mike up and instead allow him to get five and a half hours in bed. He is very grateful when he eventually wakes up.
In the morning there is still virtually no wind. Mike calculates that at least if we put the two engines on from around 11 am we should be able to get into the marina safely by dark.
During the late morning the stomach pains gradually wear off and I risk eating some eggy bread, but don’t fry it in butter, just dry fry it instead. Yuk. All that lovely butter makes such a difference. My stomach feels a bit uncomfortable but that’s all. Maybe after 48 hours it is reaching the end of it’s course.
We watch Tahiti and Moorea gradually appear on the horizon. They both have mountains so high that they are visible from 40 miles away although it’s hard to distinguish them in the haze. Even as we motor along the coast of Tahiti there is no sea breeze heading towards the land – very unusual with land so high.
We arrive into the main port of Papeete, call rally control on the VHF and are given our berthing instructions. When we arrive at our allotted floating pontoon there are lots of people to take our lines, and we tie up stern to. We then have to pick up the lazy lines that are tied to the dock but attached to stern lines in front of the boat. The trouble is, these lazy lines spend their their lives lying on the sea bed and are totally covered in a thick, brown, disgustingly smelly sludge. I don’t even want to think about the biological makeup of this sludge as I run the line through my hands – very carefully – until I reach the end and can pull the rope aboard and tie it on to the bow cleat. By this time, this gunk has flicked itself all along the side of the boat. Gross, gross, gross! I look across to Mike who has fared no better on his side. Actually, he has fared worse. Not only has he managed to cut his finger on a barnacle which was one the line, but he has flicked the gross gunk over his t-shirt too. Pig-pen by name, Pig-pen by nature.
Unfortunately, the engines are left in gear while we tie up in order to keep the boat from slamming back into the concrete dock, and we realise that one of the lazy lines has been cut by the starboard propeller. Not only will we have to reattach this before we leave, but Mike will also have to dive down and check that none of it is not wrapped around it.
We put the gangplank out and watch it slide sideways everytime one of the large ferries comes into the port and past the marina. Mmm, this could be interesting! Carole and John arrive to welcome us and invite us to their hotel for a long hot shower and some air conditioned comfort but we are both to tired to go. We sit with a cup of tea and chat for a while. When they have gone, I strip our main bed and sea bed. It will be showers and lovely clean, fresh bed linen tonight. Bliss.
As the sun sets, Moorea becomes more visible in the distance.
By the time we go to bed, I am not completely better, but starting to feel distinctly more human.
Our position is: 17 deg 32 min S, 149 deg 34 min W
Distance so far: 6628 nautical miles
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