June
11 Mangareva, Gambier Islands AKA Just Living
After a fun day exploring Pitcairn Island
and a very fast 36 hour sail west we have arrived in French Polynesia and are
just living. It is relaxed, stress-free and totally wonderful.
The Gambier Islands are a group of small rocky
islets - the last remnants of an old long-extinct volcano - in a large shallow
lagoon surrounded on all sides by coral reef. It is the first set of over 10,
000 islands that stretch all the way from here to Asia. From now on we will
have short hops from one island to another, countless choices about where to
sail next, palm trees and white sand beaches and little drinks with umbrellas
in them in all directions.
We are anchored near the village of Rikitea
along with a dozen other boats. It is totally calm inside the lagoon and so we
sit flat, without rocking or rolling, as if at dock. An easy swim to the
shallows allows one to snorkel with countless exotic fish. The weather is
ideal. And the (only) street in the village is lined with lush trees, mango and
orange and coconut, laden with ripe fruit for the taking. There is a small
restaurant/pub that wants to attract the ‘yatchies’ and so offers free
internet. (Yes, I am there at the moment with my laptop, drinking a cold beer
and considering the snack menu.)
One of the other boats here has a Canadian
couple on it whom we met at Easter Island and two of the other boats are
previously known to Sven. All three of them have been here for a while and are
getting ready to head on to the next spot as soon as the weather looks good so
we quickly invited them all over for an after dinner drink yesterday and had a
wonderful evening.
One of our forestays broke on the leg here
which means Sven has a problem to tackle and we will likely end up staying two
weeks instead of the one originally planned which gives me lots of time to be a
good crew and do chores on the boat but also to be a tourist, go for swims,
walk the town, climb the hills, visit the black pearl farms…
So I am just living. I am, for the first
time on this whole adventure, utterly stress free, relaxed, happy, and at peace
with myself.
I want to be here. Or somewhere else. I
want to just live. Sort of like we are now. Forever. We got up with the sun
this morning, had our usual healthy breakfast, and discussed the day’s chores.
I made Sven laugh, which is always good, every day needs some laughter in it, then
I wiped the salt off the lifelines, made fresh bread, helped him take down the
stay sail, did a laundry, prepared lunch, had a break, took a long swim,
attacked some rust spots on the stainless steel, and was, basically, just
happy. I don’t want to stay on this boat, where I am paying crew (yes, I admit,
I am not being paid to be here, nor am I here for free, I am paying for the
right to live and work here, but, to be honest, it is not much, $15US/day,
which covers everything, room, board, limitless drinks, the use of all the
boats toys, the odd sarcastic comment…) I want to find a partner to sail with.
The three couples who were on board last night have each been sailing for
years, literally, and all of them are so relaxed, so happy, so content to just
be. The boat I am on is magnificent, I am unlikely to ever live again on such a
fantastic vessel, but here I am crew, merely crew, and as I looked at the
couples sitting round the cockpit with us I wanted to be one of them. Don’t get
me wrong. I am thrilled to be here at all. And the situation I am in at the
moment is almost absolutely perfect. This is almost exactly paradise. I want to
live like this, where the days in harbour are filled with cooking and repairs
and long swims and fresh fruit, exploring new places, meeting new people and
happening across old friends, and where the days at sea are filled with
watching the weather, navigating the boat, changing the sails and learning the
names of the stars. But, also, I want to have at least a tiny bit of say into
our itinerary and at least a little bit more responsibility with respect to
sail handling. But that is all. Everything else I can compromise on. (Except
safety of course.) I doubtless will never end up again on a boat as magnificent
as this one, but, really, that’s ok.
And, of course, I am going to have to spend
next year living in Arnprior and being the Art teacher first. (What? Art? Really?
Weird!)
But it’s all good. It’s all very very good.
Roll on 50!
