Again the day starts nice and bright and sunny. Mike goes over to the Yacht Club to sort out our bill with Laurent, the yacht services agent then we slip off our mooring and take the boat over to Vaitape to fill up with fuel.
The fuel dock, strangely, seems to be the place where the young kids hang out. As we approach, they all studiously ignore us, which is unusual as people normally rush to help you with the lines. Obviously, they are trying to be cool. John jumps off as we approach the dock and I move around the bow with the roving fender until we are tied on.
The paperwork again takes ages, and because we want the fuel at the duty free price (because we are a foreign registered vessel) they want copies of the boat papers – goodness only knows what would happen if we didn’t have a photocopier on board as the boat’s registration document is laminated and they’d have trouble getting that through their fax machines, which is their normal way of copying things. They also will not take plastic for payment, insisting on cash. We have to scrounge some off Carole to comply with their demands.
We intend taking the boat into the town but we motor all along the water’s edge and do not find anywhere to anchor. Where the depth is OK, evil looking coral heads lurk beneath the surface, then the sea bed drops away sharply into depths that make putting the anchor down inadvisable – there’s probably coral down there too but you just can’t see it. Instead, we take the boat back to the Yacht Club and pick up a different mooring. On the way back a local guy in a canoe paddles in our slip stream urging us to to faster and faster. Immediately he sees me grin and take my camera out, he pauses and poses for the photo.
There is a dinghy rowing race planned for the afternoon but we decline to take part. I hate things like this and would probably fall in anyway. In the end it looks like only three boats join in so we are not the only poopers. I enjoy myself much more by spending the afternoon lounging around while Mike attempts to fix the VHF - thank goodness we have a spare!
Lying on my bed I ponder French Polynesia. It is beautiful, but after a while, a beautiful beach is a beautiful beach. Sure, there is more to it than beautiful beaches, but in some places, not much. So far we haven’t even bothered getting off the boat in Bora Bora which must say something. I realise that I am getting blasé about nature’s beauty, and that I am looking forward more and more to getting to Australia, or at least, to something different. Maybe Suwarrow or Tonga will offer this. I hope so otherwise I will just end up bored which is a terrible thing to admit to. I know that looking back on this it will all seem much more exciting, but sometimes, right now, it just isn’t! Oops. I’ll probably get hung for that by the “only boring people get bored” brigade.
For their last evening with us, Carole and John take us out to dinner. We start off in the Yacht Club for a drink. The rest of the fleet (who aren’t taking part in the Tahiti Pearl Regatta) are there for the fleet rendezvous in the form of a barbecue and are having their prize-giving. Carole and I are given beautiful garlands of tiare flowers and bougainvillea and I have my usual cuddle with Paul – he’s very gracious about being man-handled by an older woman!
Our transport arrives and we are taken to a lovely restaurant although none of us knows which one John has booked – including John. The food is really good and we have a great evening.
Photo: At the restaurant, somewhere in Bora Bora
When we are brought back to the Yacht Club Carole finds new friends, in the shape of three puppies that belong (I presume) to the manager. They are in destructive mode though, and destroy Carole’s garland as she bends down to stroke them, then attempt to rip her dress to shreds. I keep well out of the way!
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