It’s only after we seem to have been up for hours and it’s still dark that Mike admits to setting the alarm clock earlier than he promised, but at least it means that we have time to use the last half an hour of our pre-paid internet time and still leave by 7 am.
Inside the lagoon the water is flat calm and there is little wind but once through the pass all that changes, the sea gets choppy and the wind picks up to about 16 knots.
We both throw our flower garlands from last night into the sea. If you do this, it means that you will come back one day. I’d like to think this is not the last time I will see French Polynesia.
French Polynesia has not disappointed. I know I was getting a little blasé but there is so much to recommend it apart from it’s obvious physical charms. The people are so friendly, genuinely friendly, not all of them obviously, but I have never been anywhere else where people smile at you so readily (and not just when they are taking your money). If only she were not so bloody expensive and so dammed difficult to get to! The Marquesas and Tuamotus especially are almost out of this world.
I’m feeling a little under the weather today and go for a lie down in the morning but don’t manage to sleep. Hang on here, not feeling well, can’t sleep? Oh, must be on a passage then!!
Lunch is a sandwich as I can’t face the galley today for anything that would take too long to prepare. We defrost the ham that we bought in Nuku Hiva and it’s the strangest looking stuff but if you don’t look at it (or read the contents on the packet) it’s quite edible.
Much to his annoyance and frustration, Mike notices that when he switches the generator on it fails to charge the batteries properly – the voltage dial flutters just like it did before. It is working well enough to run the air conditioning and water maker so it’s not quite the problem that we had before. He’ll take a look at it when we get to Rarotonga.
I spend a short while copying some films from John’s hard disk onto my computer and Mike goes out to fiddle with the sails. He’s been gone some minutes when I wander out to see what he is doing, and he’s not there, or at least, I can’t see him. The sea is pitching the boat around like a cork and in a panic I overlook him crouched right down, within the safety of the guard rails, and scan the sea thinking that he’s gone overboard. Then I see him, safe, and burst into uncontrollable sobs, so overcome that I have to sit down until the panic recedes and Mike comes over to calm me with a cuddle. Apparently he had called to tell me where he was but he didn’t realise I had the headphones on and hadn’t heard him. I don’t want a repeat of that feeling.
The weather varies from grey, to sunny then back to rain, some of it heavy and the day drags by, lurching from side to side in the uneven waves. God knows what sea like this feels like in a monohull. Mike and I take it in turns to try to sleep, he being successful and me, obviously not. By the time I have to properly go to bed to sleep before my watch I am pissed off and miserable. Still there’s 150 fewer miles to travel to Rarotonga than there would have been to Suwarrow so I should be grateful for that.
Our position is: 17 deg 25 min S, 153 deg 29 min W
Distance so far: 6972 nautical miles
I am nearly crying reading how upset you were when you couldn't find Mike. What a terrible feeling! That will shake you for sure.
ReplyDeleteI love the photo of you holding the cup of tea with your leg over the rail. The sky and sea look almost artistically blurred..very professional. I saved it!
Happy Anniversary to you both. You are an inspiration to Joe and me. You can see the love you both have for one another. A true love. It is so rare these days.
Sending lots of love, I read every day and miss you tons!
Heather xxxx