I decide that I’ve had a good time here and want to move on tomorrow. Why am I so restless? Why do I constantly feel the urge to move on? What else lies beyond the horizon? When I’m at sea I want to be on shore, and when I’m on land the sea pulls me like a magnet . . . Which way shall I go now? Huahine?
Moorea–Bora Bora: 130 nautical miles
DAY 1: 17 June
I toss off the lines, and Guppy sails towards a sea that’s as smooth as a mirror. This means that the reefs aren’t marked by the breakers. There’s almost no wind, and Moorea disappears very slowly in the distance. But the good thing about this is that I can take my time. It’s something different to be sailing out over a super-flat sea.
I’m very tired and am dozing off in the heat of the cockpit. At 17.00 I try to sleep, but don’t really succeed. A few hours later, when it’s dark and I’ve finally fallen asleep, I’m woken by the radar alarm and see a cargo ship in the distance. I’m shocked when I discover that the masthead light and the Echomax aren’t switched on. Cursing myself for my carelessness, I follow the ship’s echo on my radar until it has passed, and then go below again. Although the boat is quite steady, I just can’t sleep. The wind has dropped and the radar alarm keeps on going off because there’s quite a bit of traffic now, so I decide to sit on deck and enjoy the stars while Guppy, rolling gently, glides over the water on a purring engine. In the meantime, the first few islands are coming into sight, but Gup and I decide to sail on to Bora Bora.
DAY 2: 18 June
As dawn breaks, the dark shapes take on some colour. I’m sailing between Huahine and Tahaa and have 30 miles to go. I hope to be there before dark. There’s still no wind, but the tall mountains of Bora Bora are in sight. As is often the case with these coral islands, I have to sail halfway around the island before coming to the only opening in the reef by which you can enter. From the sea, I see a beautiful anchoring spot. There’s another big yacht there, so I assume that it’s deep enough. Guppy sails between the reefs into a lagoon that’s as smooth as a mirror, and then it’s another few miles to the anchorage I spotted. I’m halfway between the coral reef and the anchorage, and feeling very optimistic, when Guppy hits a mega brain coral. Although it’s just a nudge, Guppy is not happy with me. On the second attempt, I run aground.
At this stage, I give up trying to get to my ideal spot as it’s getting dark. I now have two options: anchor in very deep water or go to a mooring. The water is very deep, dropping away steeply near both the land and the coral reefs; a depth of more than 50 metres! Now that it’s getting dark fast, I bring Guppy up to a mooring close to other boats. It’s not ideal because I never entirely trust moorings. You never know how long it’s been since the moorings were laid and what condition they’re in. It also costs money, something I don’t have a lot of. Well, Guppy will be OK for tonight, and we’ll look for another spot tomorrow. Preferably one that Guppy can reach without being scoured by coral. Satisfied, I finish reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, the delicious aroma of my homemade biscuits spreading through the cabin.
Bora Bora
Cornflakes again for breakfast. Hmm, high time I went to buy some bread. I inflate the dinghy, drop my folding bike into it, and ask my neighbours for directions. It’s just 10.00 and already getting hot. I cycle fast because I can do with some exercise, passing through the village to another bay where I buy bread and eggs. I get back to Guppy at about 13.00.
After my little exploration, I decide that the moorings also being used by other yachts are probably the best option. There aren’t any better spots, and to attempt anchoring where the other yacht is lying is too risky to try again. I’m still worried about our brush with the coral, and dive overboard to take a look at Guppy’s hull. All I can find is a small scratch in the paint on Guppy’s keel. She can definitely take a bump or two.
Meanwhile, I get to meet some of the people on the other yachts. One of them has a computer problem that I manage to solve, and as a reward they offer me the use of their internet. The moorings belong to the yacht club and I’m assured that they are checked regularly, so Guppy and I can relax and enjoy a good night’s rest.
Yesterday’s cycle has given me a taste for more, and I decide to cycle around the whole island as my morning exercise. It’s easier than I thought it would be, as the road around the island is almost at sea level and there are few hills along the way. It takes me about three or four hours to cycle around Bora Bora’s tall mountain and back to Guppy. I’d left fairly early and am back at 13.00.
At the yacht club, I meet the family that manages the club. The club was destroyed by a heavy hurricane the year before, and they’re still busy rebuilding it. Although they speak only a little English and I speak only a few words of French, we manage to have a lot of fun. They offer to take me to parts of the island that can’t be reached on a folding bike. From the top of the mountain there’s an awesome view of Guppy. You can look down on Bora Bora and also have a view of all the surrounding islands — it’s stunning.
When I get back, I move Guppy closer to the jetty. She’s now moored between two of the yacht club moorings and feels entirely safe. I think I’ll cycle around the island again tomorrow, as a little more exercise won’t do me any harm. Let’s see if I can do it in two and a half hours this time.
As usual my plans change, and my second trip round the island is postponed when my neighbours, Tom and Janis on Tomboy, ask me to join them on a mountain hike. And so cycling makes way for hiking. What strikes me about the houses is that most have a graveyard in the garden where they bury their deceased family members, instead of making use of a communal cemetery. After a three-hour walk, I get back to Guppy and join up all the available hoses so that I can reach the tap on the jetty. Awesome! Now I can fill the jerry cans and bottles, do the washing and hose down Guppy.
I don’t feel so well in the afternoon and decide to take it easy for the rest of the day, but that doesn’t really help. Oh well, I should feel better tomorrow. I’ll go to bed early tonight.
I’m feeling much better the next morning, but not super-fit. I can’t, however, withstand the temptation of putting my Minicat together and taking it for a sail around the bay. There’s a lot of wind, with some strong gusts off the mountains. I capsize several times and I’m catapulted overboard, but the few scratches I sustain are worth all the fun. The Minicat is fast; a bit too fast . . . and after a few rounds, my body reminds me that it would be better to take it a little easier. I go back to Guppy and read in the cockpit, with a beautiful view of the island. I don’t always listen to myself, but I’ve started to learn from my mistakes.
With all the tropical fish that are swimming under us and the coral that surrounds us on Bora Bora, I have the feeling that Guppy is floating in a living aquarium. I fully understand why so many couples come here for their honeymoon. It’s a stunning, tropical green island with pearly white beaches and wonderful diving spots.
In the morning, I continue to explore the island on my bicycle, but soon it’s too hot to continue and I decide that snorkelling is a better option. The stingrays and black-tip sharks are fairly tame here, too, and they swim around me cheerfully. I then enjoy a Coke at the yacht club and check my email. When I get back to Guppy, my laptop slides out of my hands, but I manage to break the fall with my big toe. Good for the laptop, but not good for my toe, which is turning blue . . .
I was planning to move on, but the locals tell me that there’ll be a big traditional festival on Friday and Saturday and that I shouldn’t miss it. The yacht club owner, François, with whom I’ve become friends and who lets me moor my boat for free, tells me it’s very special and that it’s worth staying for. So I decide to stay for a few more days.
‘Lauraaa, Lauraaa!’
I wake up to the sound of someone shouting my name, forget that I’m sleeping in my hammock, and fall to the floor. Still half asleep, I jump into my clothes and paddle to the jetty where François is standing. He asks me if I feel like going to some shark-f
eeding with them. No, thanks, I want to work on Guppy today and don’t feel like going to a tourist attraction, but I won’t say no to a nice breakfast. After breakfast, I’m allowed to use the internet for as long as I like, but I’m soon bored. The internet doesn’t really suit my lifestyle and isn’t really recreation for me. A neighbour who lives next to the yacht club comes by in her Land Rover and asks if I need to do any shopping. I jump at the offer and take my jerry cans along to fill up with diesel. Her English is not good and my French isn’t any better, but we get along fine. Having run by all the shops, we get back to Guppy with heaps of stuff. I top up the diesel tank, clean up and then decide to go sailing in my Minicat again. There’s a lot of wind, but I manage to capsize only once. I’m managing to sail the Minicat on one hull, which is not exactly what the inflatable Minicat was built for!
Without being aware of it, I’ve been amusing half the people at the anchorage and the yacht club with my sailing stunts for the past two hours. When I get back to shore and am busy rinsing the boat, they drop quite a few comments. Didn’t I think there was a little too much wind for an ant like me to take her inflatable catamaran out today? But it was fantastic and I’d never gone that fast on the Minicat.
In the meantime, the dance festival has begun and the first performances will be given today. I walk to the village with Tom and Janis from Tomboy. I’m very surprised when the festival starts with three groups street-dancing to techno music. This is certainly not what I was expecting and I have to suppress a giggle. Tom and Janis are also taken aback. After the dancing, there’s a long speech in Tahitian of which we don’t understand a word, but it sounds good. After the speech, I accompany François to a friend of his who wants to give me some fruit for my voyage. They offer me bananas, grapefruit and pineapples that have just been picked.
I have dinner with Tom and Janis on Tomboy that evening, and we go back to the dance festival afterwards. For the first time it’s really cool and there’s a lot of wind, but now the traditional dances are being performed and they really are impressive. They resemble nothing I’ve ever seen before in terms of dancing. There are about 80 dancers who all follow the exact same movements in exotic costumes to the sound of the drums, making it look very spectacular and intense. I get back to Guppy very late and thoroughly cold, but it’s been an unforgettable experience.
Kathy, François’ wife, is taking part in the traditional canoe race the next morning and I very much want to watch it. At eight o’clock, I’m in François’ speedboat with two of his children. It’s great to watch one of these traditional canoe races. They’re incredibly fast and the course extends the full length of the bay. Kathy’s five teammates don’t row as well as Kathy does, and they come in second to last, but no one seems to mind. They laugh a lot and, well, better luck next time, right?
Every day brings something new, but I decide that Guppy and I will be on our way tomorrow or we’ll be here forever! This means that I must start the preparations: fold up and stow away my Minicat and bicycle, secure the loose bits and pieces in the lockers, and of course fill the water tank. The weather charts promise variable winds, but with a bit of luck Guppy and I will find a favourable breeze for Niue.
As soon as I’m ready, I go ashore to see whether I can persuade François to sail his Hobie Cat with me. I start taking off the covers and soon see that the boat hasn’t been used for quite a while. Several pulleys and other bits are missing, but Guppy has a good stock of these, and, with much improvisation and the removal of a palm tree that blocks the way, we get the boat in the water.
We sail very fast, and within half an hour we’ve almost capsized several times, but when we reach the other side of the island the wind drops. We’re almost back when there’s a sudden squall with a lot of wind, and it’s beginning to get dark by the time we complete our round trip of Bora Bora. A warm shower at the yacht club revives us, and I’m totally exhilarated by our trip on a super-fast open boat.
The next morning I enjoy breakfast on board Tomboy before I toss off the mooring lines and wave farewell to everyone as Guppy and I start our passage for the island of Niue.
Bora Bora–Tonga: 1300 nautical miles
DAY 1: 27 June
The wind and the waves looked so promising when I left, but I’m cursing the weather again. The short, choppy waves are beginning to irritate me. Things seem to improve in the afternoon, or is it just that I’m getting used to it again? There’s a gentle breeze from dead astern, which isn’t the best sailing wind for a ketch, and Guppy is doing about 4.5 knots. It’s not exactly the speed I’m used to from her, but I’ll have to be happy with it. I’m once again asking myself why I feel the need to go back to sea just when I’ve met some nice people on a beautiful island. To bob about like a rubber duck and be thrown around only to arrive at yet another beautiful island? I always have this love/hate relationship with sailing. Ninety per cent of the time it’s nothing special, but the remaining 10 per cent makes it all worthwhile. Especially the thrill of arriving somewhere and the attraction of what is waiting just beyond the horizon; these factors continue to drive me westwards.
There are three islands on my route. The first, Maupiti, is behind me, and the other two are two too many for my liking. That’s because they’re both atolls and so low that you only see them when you are almost on top of them. There’s another yacht in the distance that’s sailing in the same direction. Guppy tries to catch up with the other yacht but doesn’t really succeed, and now that I want to sleep, this yacht is constantly in the radar alarm zone, which keeps me awake. And it’s not responding to my VHF calls, so we can’t even have a chat . . .
I’ve developed a sore throat and it’s getting worse and worse tonight. I don’t get any sleep, as Guppy has decided to slowly but surely overtake the yacht in front of me, which means that I’m on watch. By morning I’m feeling really tired, and I now have a cold to match my sore throat, which is making me feel really ill. I try to sleep, but this doesn’t work, and neither does reading. I’m not hungry either. The SSB-net comes over loud and clear at half past four and I check in. The yacht that Guppy eventually overtook during the night has disappeared from sight behind us and so has the last atoll that I just passed.
The following wind is still weak, but Guppy is generally sailing in the right direction and the sails aren’t flapping around too much. The flapping happens in light winds when Guppy rolls heavily from side to side, too fast for the sails to follow. This results in the sails flipping over briefly and, as they fill with wind again, flying back with a heavy slap, which is very bad for the sails.
I use the satellite phone to call my sister, Kim, to wish her a happy thirteenth birthday. The connection is not good, but I get to sample a bit of the party. I realise that I’ve been absent from the Netherlands for a while. Kim uses a few new slang words and sounds quite grown-up. I say goodbye and try to get some sleep; that’s if the sails don’t slap too much. The wind is letting me down at the moment.
DAY 2: 28 June
I’m feeling terrible. My throat is a little less painful, but I’m really ill. I haven’t had a cold this bad in three years, and can’t believe it’s possible to catch a cold in the tropics. I think I caught some ’flu on Bora Bora. I know that it will pass, but why does this happen at sea when I need to be alert? Even though I’m dead tired, I can’t sleep. The wind has dropped away entirely and the water has changed to an endless blue, undulating seascape. The sails begin to flap and I decide to take them down before they get damaged. I start my faithful little engine, and Guppy now leaves some ripples in her wake. We’re not going fast, but at least she isn’t rolling so terribly.
Well, it doesn’t really matter whether I’m sick here or in Niue, except that I’m now getting irritated by the sound of the engine and the battle with the sails.
At 16.00, I log onto the SSB-net and talk to Henk, a Dutch solo sailor whom I met briefly in Panama. He’s on his way to Tonga. After talking to a couple of other sailors, I know that I’m n
ot the only one who’s becalmed. Well, I’ve accepted that it’s going to be a longer trip, and so long as the calm doesn’t combine with a heavy swell, it’s fine. Nature teaches you to be patient. Everyone on the SSB-net tells me to get well soon. They can hear that I’m ill, because I’m croaking like a frog.
DAY 3: 29 June
Some wind at last today! I can sail again and I’ve reached 3.5 knots. But just as my hopes are rising, the wind drops away entirely and Guppy is bobbing again with flapping sails. ARGH! Right, drop the sails and on with Mr Yanmar. An hour later the bilge-water alarm goes off in the engine compartment. A leak? Alarmed, I dive straight into the engine compartment and check the propeller shaft, valves and cooling water pipes. Nothing. After a further half-hour inspection, I discover that the stainless-steel exhaust of the Yanmar has rusted through. I thought that stainless steel didn’t rust . . . I now have to squeeze myself into an impossible position behind the engines to bind the exhaust with Rescue Tape, and that seems to do the trick. The automatic bilge pump is not working for some reason, and when I take it apart I find that it’s clogged by a huge cockroach!
In the afternoon, I read for a couple of hours and enjoy a bit of food for the first time in ages. While slicing the pineapple, I accidentally cut my little finger. The yellow fruit is soon covered in red blotches and looks gross. But pineapple with spots is edible, and the rest is solved with a plaster.
As always while sailing, I’ve completely lost my sense of time. Towards sunset, I’m sitting in the cockpit enjoying half a French loaf with a fried egg while the sky turns slowly from orange to purple. A little weight loss wouldn’t be a bad idea. Thanks to all the lovely meals I’ve enjoyed with people I’ve met on the way, I’ve put on weight. Hey, I’ve just noticed that my nose isn’t blocked anymore and I can smell the wonderful, fresh sea air out in the middle of the ocean. I’ve never noticed that before.
One Girl One Dream Page 21
