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Part of The Underway Gourmet by Suzy O'Keefe

Bora Bora! Approaching the island in the early morning hours before dawn, I could smell it. This is the South Pacific... it's supposed to be that way, right? Maybe, but until now it hasn't been. The Marquesas didn't even have that tropical fragrance when I was anchored there. The Tuoamotus had a fine sweet fragrance once I set foot on land, but this... this island of Bora Bora is fragrant enough to awaken a person sleeping down below while the vessel is still several miles away.

I'd picked up the habit of talking to the stars... listening to them really. Don't "roll your eyes" now. I'm not that crazy, but you've seen it... a certain star really blinks so that it always attracts your attention. I'd talk. It would blink. It heard me and answered, but what did it say.??? I'd just let my mind wander. Things that were on my mind just came out. It was a little like having an imaginary friend to talk to. One who didn't judge me, but just listened and acknowledged. I was just a bit radical you know... a woman out here alone; hitchhiking across the Pacific! I even called these stars by name. Not their astrological ones, but names just like yours and mine.

The trimaran Windjammer had a fine, fast passage occasionally touching on 13 knots. It was like driving a big expensive car though, you couldn't really feel the speed. We did donuts until dawn then picked up a mooring off the Yacht Club (free if you bought a meal there). There were several other boats moored there and I soon realized they were part of the Tradewinds-Around-The-World-Rally. The rally I'd missed because the skipper of the Alberg 34 didn't want to get "in the middle of all that". He detoured to Hiva Oa just to avoid them. You see, the "Rally" got quite a bit of bad press from American cruisers already anchored in Nuka Hiva when they came into the harbor. 36 Brit Boats with an attitude who had just crossed from the Galapagos!

These boats in Bora Bora were the stragglers. The ones bringing up the rear for one reason or the other. From Bora Bora, Windjammer Louie was headed for American Samoa and I had hoped to join a rally boat to go on to other islands and eventually Australia.

Those Rally folks were NEVER at the Yacht Club! How was I supposed to meet any of them? There was almost never anyone on board and after a couple of days I was losing hope. I wasn't sure what I was going to do, but I had gotten used to that feeling. I wasn't sure what I was going to do when I left Mexico. I wasn't sure what I was going to do when I left the Alberg to help the folks on that Islander Freeport 41 (which will remain nameless to protect the clueless). Sigh. I decided to go for a walk... a very long walk all the way down to the other end of the island where that big resort hotel served those drinks with the little umbrellas.

I did. They did. Then I started the long walk back. I wasn't looking for a ride so I was walking against traffic. It was hot and when a car stopped on the other side of the road to offer a ride I decided accept. I crossed the road and there on the ground as I opened the car door was a wallet. French Francs, a bank card, and personal papers. I had the driver drop me at the bank. I figured I'd just turn it in to them, but when I tried to open the door, I realized it was a (French) bank holiday. Now what? If I'd found a coin or a bill on the ground, I'd have slipped in my pocket without a thought, but it's not my style to keep a wallet. Ahhhh, I know. The Gendarmes! I don't speak French though. Oh well, this should be interesting.

The 3rd French-speaking fellow I spoke with finally understood. He took down all the information I could explain about where I found the wallet as well as my name and that I was from "one of the boats". He pulled out Windjammer's paperwork to confirm things and thanked me. It made me feel good to do the right thing.

Finding money had always had significance to me in the past. It meant change, maybe good or maybe bad, but it meant change. When I returned to the tri, I saw folks aboard one of the bigger expensive rally boats and asked if they needed crew. They politely said no, but hesitated then suggested I go see the Japanese couple on the catamaran... they NEEDED crew. "Thanks" I said. I grabbed Windjammer's skipper since he was Chinese. That would help right? Off we went. It was about dusk. The Japanese skipper, Taka, spoke very little English, but his wife, Kiki, did better. Louie laughed a lot... like some of the characters you see in those bad martial arts movies. I guess he helped though, 'cause I was CREW in the Tradewinds Rally! They needed me as far as Fiji!

The two of them were sailing alone having lost their crew in Tahiti. We never got into why. I got my own cabin with a head and shower. Kiki did all the cooking, but possibly I could help (a little). It's apparently a Japanese thing. I moved aboard the next morning.

I needed to retrieve my bond money since I was leaving French Polynesia and they needed to add me to their crew. Both of these events required a visit the Gendarmes. Things got a little complicated at that point. The Japanese boat, in fact, none of the rally boats had bothered to check in at Bora Bora. They thought they had satisfied their requirement for the Societies while in Tahiti... the Gendarmes, however, was not of the same opinion. These French Officials actually stated that they didn't know the boats were there or they would have paid them all a visit and fined them! Ooooooops. If I hadn't made Taka go there, all could have quietly escaped un-noticed.

The Gendarmes were un-yielding and the situation was getting worse, when who should walk in but the fellow that had handled the wallet I found. Don't ask me how and don't ask me why, but he made everything okay! Boats were checked in, papers were filled out so I could get my refund, crew was swapped, and no one was fined! As always, doing the right thing was the right thing.

Gambatti Go, Taka's boat, was the last rally boat to leave Bora Bora, but all were headed for (or already in) Raratonga, one of the Cook Islands. They speak English there... well almost. They speak New Zealand!!! It would be about 4 days travel. I quickly learned that although Taka was a "modern" Japanese man, he was deeply rooted in the old ways. He insisted on complete control and Kiki played the role of a good Japanese wife, obeying and serving without question. All he wanted me to do was to baby-sit the auto pilot. No touching the sails, nothing!

Food was prepared (wonderful food) and waiting for me to eat at either the beginning or the end of my watch. You should have seen the "pantry" on this boat. They had actually gutted one of the staterooms and turned it into wall-to-wall floor-to-ceiling shelves. It was like being inside a fancy Japanese market. Shitaki mushrooms, sesame powder, noodles, wasabi, fresh and pickled ginger! I was in heaven as far as food was concerned. I told myself that I could manage, even if I couldn't touch anything that made the boat sail. I could live with waking up the skipper every time something was needed...

I got some satisfaction from the fact that Taka needed me to handle the SSB radio net. He had a problem consistently understanding the transmissions and asked me to clarify. Also, since speaking was more of a problem for those listening, he agreed to allow me to actually speak on behalf of Gambatti Go. This is how I met the rest of the fleet. I was comfortable with the radio and almost felt like I was back on the air in Mexico. The fleet had started to get to know me long before we met face to face.

We were a couple of days out of Bora Bora when the weather turned "shitty". By shitty, I mean winds building to 50 knots and 16 to 18 foot seas. Granted, this was a 45 foot boat, but it was also a wide platform fully capable of turning over and staying that way! Turtling, it's called. Taka and I were taking turns at the helm. As I came on watch he let me know the main had separated at the luff between the 1st and 2nd reef points. We got it reefed fully to stop any further damage. This was around 25K and mostly from behind... nothing unusual for the South Pacific. Things built quickly after that and I'm sure I saw 40K. I stayed right on top of the wheel; making sure I was keeping the wind just off our stern quarter and driving down the swells. We were doing 13 knots! Remember, I wasn't allowed to make any changes! When he came back up on deck he wanted to drop all sail, but I was able to convince him that what we really needed was to deploy the drogue, unroll the handkerchief sized staysail, and run under that alone. It was still essential to drive, but we would be much more under control. He managed to get a big snarl in the drogue line and nearly got dragged overboard in the process, he was very, very lucky! The drogue cut our speed in half. A couple more 2 hour watch changes and now we've got 50 knots. Taka was beat and Kiki was completely afraid to drive so I stood one 6 hour watch in that cold, wet 50 knots afraid to let go of the wheel for an instant and knowing I needed to let him sleep. I think the shivering kept me warm!

Scared? Yes, but I was more secure in my own driving than in his. I'd tried to tell Taka that HE had to drive and not rely on the auto pilot because it had a tendency to wander thru more than 20 degrees in these conditions. If we didn't keep the seas directly on our stern quarter, we could either get sideways and be rolled over or get pooped. After 6 very long hours Taka was rested enough and took another turn. Kiki had made a meal for me which I devoured and then fell into my bunk still wearing my foulies.

I'd been passed out for only 20 minutes when the boat shuddered. Crashing sounds and water flowing over the deck above my head. As I was dragging myself off the bunk, Kiki pounded on the cabin door and in her broken English said "Boat Gone, Water Come In!" Shit!!! I was certainly expecting the worst, but what I found was that Taka had been letting the auto pilot drive again and had taken the seas dead astern. We'd been pooped! A huge swell had crashed down onto the boat ripping away the dinghy and outboard motor and tearing one of the davits off along with a sizable bite of fiberglass from the transom. The water had filled the cockpit and flowed into the 6 foot tall bifold Plexiglas salon "doorway" and down into both amas soaking everything inside that was anywhere near the cabin sole.

I took the wheel again while they worked to clean up what they could and I offered to continue. I drove for 2 more hours. By then, at least, the storm had gotten no worse and my off watch (this time) was uneventful. They actually let me sleep more than 2 hours and when I awoke, it was daylight and calming. We'd been blown off course and were now headed to the nearest Cook Island which was Aitutaki. With a ripped main, Taka had decided to just motor, but... the drogue was still deployed and he was motoring against it AND asking the auto pilot to drive. I was unsuccessful in getting him to bring in the drogue. It's no wonder the poor auto pilot gave up the ghost after we got to Aitutaki!

Aitutaki is surrounded by reef and has a very narrow and shallow entrance into the harbor... Gambatti bumper, but no real harm done. We were allowed to tie up at the delivery dock since we'd had damage. A couple of boats were moved out of the way and the dock guard carefully watched our boat for us as well. Safely anchored were about 10 other Rally boats who had also been in the gale. All but 3 left almost immediately, but not before lending us a spare dinghy. Unfortunately, I only met a few of my fellow travelers there.

I did meet a local character of some distinction, Father Don Manning, Catholic Priest. He greets all arriving boats and brings fresh fruit or home baked bread. On the VHF radio he answers to the name of "Sky Pilot". In his past life, he'd been a builder of class 'B' catamarans. I've never met anyone quite like him, especially a priest! He offered to show us the island's "Hot Spots"; the best places for dinner and dancing. (I'll bet he gets a lot of free meals that way ;-)

We enjoyed a show put on by one of the island's 3 youth dance groups and both Father Don and I were treated to anything we wanted at dinner that night.

The next morning I learned the real reason the sail had come apart... some months ago a flogging batten had caused the damage and Taka had repaired it! Oh did I forget to mention that Taka is a surgeon??? He had put six BEAUTIFUL stitches in a meter-long rip! Amazing!!! And this person had sailed half way around the world?!???! I spent most of the morning repairing it correctly but I had to have him help me since he wouldn't take the sail down. Kiki also got into the act as we stretched the sail tight and flat and applied some sticky-back to both sides. Taka held up a cutting board on one side and I used the edge of a pair of scissors to press, smooth, and stick the sail tape to the sail. We switched sides and did the whole process again.

Next I passed the needle and thread through the sail and sticky-back to Taka and had him pass it back through to me. Working six to eight inch sections at a time we cross-stitched first down then back up finishing off with a knot and moving on to the next section. When we finished sewing, there were 6 separately sewn sections. (My thought was that if one section did decide to pull out, maybe the others would hold.) We then applied a wider strip of sticky-back to each side and performed the cutting board routine again.

Over lunch Taka and Kiki asked me to sail with them the whole-way-round back to Gibraltar! I hesitated, not quite sure what to say. I thanked them and was about to say "we'd see" when, just at that moment, a fellow walked up who'd been sent by Father Don. It seems that he and Taka were distant relatives. Well, obviously, that topic dominated the rest of the day and again we all went out to dinner together.

Since Taka was a doctor, other island doctors came to meet him. Two were a husband and wife team. The lady took Kiki under her wing and offered to teach her island dance and flower weaving while the men talked "shop". A local girl had given me her flower head dress after I'd said how beautiful it was. Kiki made me one because she knew I liked them. I hung them both on the wall of my cabin... they made it smell wonderful.

Kiki and I really got a chance to become friends over the next few days. She wanted me to teach her what I knew about snorkeling, sailing, and even cooking! Of course I agreed to teach her anything she wanted to know. She gave me the finest compliment I think I've ever had. In the worst part of the 50 knot winds, she was very frightened. She said "I was much afraid. I looked at you and could see that you were not and I knew that everything would be alright". (Ha!)

We set out that next day for Tonga and I suddenly found that Kiki was never available to just talk. Apparently, she had told Taka that I was going to teach her and he didn't approve. I couldn't figure it out for a day or so and finally told Taka I needed to have some time with Kiki. He forbade it! His words were "Taka try to teach Kiki and she cannot learn". I was so mad and I said so. I also complained about the fact that he wouldn't allow me to make sail or course changes AND I told him that I would not sail with them beyond Tonga under those conditions. I was off watch and I went below. It wasn't long before Kiki knocked on my cabin door and literally begged me to stay. She cried and hugged me and well, I agreed not to make a final decision until we got to Tonga.

Things were worse now as Taka wouldn't even talk to me. We were motoring flat out and not even trying to sail and using up lots of fuel. Somewhere along the way he realized we were going near the island of Niue. Four of the Rally boats were there and having a wonderful time. We could pick up a mooring and take on diesel. I didn't know of his decision until I discovered the course change several hours later. Kiki was again standing watch since we were motoring in light winds.

I spent all my off time down in my cabin listening to the drone of the engine and thinking. I really didn't want to stay aboard Gambatti, but Kiki needed me. Besides what would happen if I left? I opened my port to cool the cabin and propped my chin on the ledge to look out. There they were! Two of "my" stars... the same ones, blinking furiously as if to say, "where the hell have you been and why aren't you talking to us?" We conversed for a while, but I was tired of dealing with the issue. It did feel good to unload my feelings, but I felt badly about having not done it sooner. I took those lovely fragrant head dresses woven so carefully by Kiki and my island friend and gave them to the stars via Neptune. Each one hurled like a Frisbee out of the port hole . "Help me make a decision", I said and I quickly fell asleep.

It was about 10PM the next night when we arrived at Niue and picked up a mooring. There were the other Rally boats, but no one responded on the VHF. We'd finished tidying things up when a dinghy rowed along side. It was the crew from Saull-Itaire of Wight, (the Scottish folk) Bill and Elspeth. My first meeting, but they'd recognized the "new arrival" as they were headed back to their boat from dinner ashore. Taka invited them aboard and we all had a beer. They were funny. I loved their Scottish Brogue and the stories they told. I felt like I had two instant friends.

The next morning was beautiful and I could actually see this strange little dot in the middle of the ocean. Long and narrow, it rose steeply from the water but didn't go very far before flattening on top so that it looked much like a stepping stone. I guess that's pretty close to what it was... a stepping stone between the Cooks and Tonga. A single island and one of the territories of New Zealand, they also spoke "English".

Eddie, crew aboard Sooty, brought over a small spare outboard motor and Taka and I spent most of the day refueling diesel with 5 gallon jury jugs from a couple of 55 gallon barrels on shore. Remember, I said the shoreline was steep. This meant climbing up a ladder with the empties, using a hand pump to transfer the fuel, and climbing back down with the fullies. I don't remember how many trips we made, but it must have been at least a dozen!

The fueling done, I thought I'd noticed Taka softening a bit. We were all (all the boats) going to dinner at the "Yacht Club" that evening and I'd been offered a ride by several of the crew folks. I think this is where I first realized just how great the separation was between crew & owners. Anyway, Eddie, along with Julie, Mark, and Tony came by to chauffeur me to dinner. I'd clearly been accepted by the other crew.

At the restaurant, a Yacht Club in name only though they did have a burgee, all of the owners wanted to speak with me about the big storm and how things REALLY were aboard Gambatti. I had wonderful and funny conversations with everyone. I'd clearly been accepted by the owners,too. All wanted to know if Id be staying with Gambatti. My answer was as honest as I could manage. "Well, I've been asked to continue the rest of the way around, but I haven't decided yet", I answered consistently. I mistook their interest as just that, but I soon learned otherwise.

I had a fine time getting to know everyone and when the festivities were over, I was dinghied back to Gambatti where I found Taka waiting to greet me with a flash light. "How nice" I thought, thanking him as I climbed aboard. Imagine my surprise as he said "I want you off my boat in morning". I said "Fine!" and went to my cabin to pack. I decided I'd take the borrowed dinghy very early and make the rounds of the other Rally boats at first light. I didn't sleep much.

Quietly, I untied the dinghy and pushed away from the boat before starting the outboard, or should I say trying to start it. Nada. Okay, so I'd row. I surveyed the boats moored around us. No signs of life yet. Who would I see first. I thought about Sooty, they had only 3 on board but it was quite a small boat. I liked the folks on Saull-Itaire, but they certainly didn't need crew. Greylag? Papa Golf? Ailsa J? Saull-Itaire it was, besides they were the closest!

I knocked rather quietly, and the owner, John, stuck his head up. I briefly explained what had happened and asked if I might have a ride to Tonga. There, I'd see about signing on with another boat. Without hesitation, he said "Come on aboard, Suzy and we'll sort this out". Remember the old movie "Miracle on 34th Street"? John pronounced Suzy the way Chris Kringle did when he spoke with the young Natalie Wood. The main halyard was secured at the gate so naturally I grabbed it as I climbed up. I let out a little whoop as several "meat hooks" bit into my hand. Apologizing, John said "that's a real problem, sorry". I said "I can fix that in no time". He didn't believe me but provided the pair of pliers I asked for. John got me a cuppa tea and asked Brenda to put on another bowl of oatmeal while he went to pay a visit to Taka.

I went to work on the halyard, quickly eliminating about 2 dozen sharp wires as I drank my tea. Brenda was still in the Galley, but Bill & Elspeth eventually awoke and joined me in the cockpit. I told my story in more detail and all listened in disbelief. John was gone for a long time...

When he returned he said, "You're coming with us. Brenda will row you over a little later to collect your gear". She agreed. John went on to say that apparently Taka had gotten the idea that I'd already made other crewing arrangements last night and this was his way of "saving face"... to kick me off before I could leave on my own. "I didn't do any such thing, John, you heard what I said last night" I told him. He said "I know, Suzy, it's that language problem of his. That and all that's happened before. No crew member of his has EVER stayed on board for more than one leg! He can't get along with anyone".

"We'll all have to go into the Port Captain tomorrow and change the Crew Lists. Don't worry" he continued. "Thanks John, thanks to all of you. I know this is an inconvenience", I forced a smile. I handed the pliers back to John and said "the operation was a success". He carefully ran his hand along the halyard. It was smooth. He was impressed, I'd swear I heard him say "You just earned your passage to Tonga"!

Possessions transferred and crew lists changed, we revised the watch schedule for Saull-Itaire. I stood the first watch along with Bill and Elspeth to become familiar with the ship, then we did a 3 watch schedule after that. John and Brenda, ME, then Bill and Elspeth again. Saull-Itaire sailed like a dream. She's a Moody 42 with a Sail-O-Mat wind vane. I could do everything I needed to do easily. It was wonderful to be sailing again!!!

But, once again, the traveling weather had not lived up to the brochure. 20 to 25 knots and lumpy seas with occasional rain. At least aboard this yacht, the cockpit had a dry spot for 2 people and it's quite comfortable. Looks like we'll arrive sometime before daylight on Wednesday. Sunday June 2nd Rally Time became Monday June 3rd en-route.

I cooked when I got the chance and did the washing up more than I had to. I must say that these Brits and Scots have some pretty funny ideas about food and drink! A frequent breakfast consisted of pork and beans, cooked canned tomatoes, and French toast. Before you wrinkle up your nose, you should know that the Brits don't serve their French toast sweet. No syrup or jam or powered sugar... just batter dipped and fried. Goes fairly well with the other two entrees. The Scots drank something they called a "Chandy" that was half 7-up and half beer!!! Tasted a bit like ginger ale. I adapted... I'm quite good at that!

This is about the time I learned the "rest of the story" concerning crew. The Rally had suggested (even encouraged) the owners to have the crew pay for the privilege of traveling with the rally. Bill and Elspeth bought their own food, kept their alcohol separate from John and Brenda's, paid a percentage of the fuel, mooring charges, maintenance, and 1/2 of the entrance fees to join the Rally which amounted to something like 3000£. So where did I fit into this picture? I had said up front that I couldn't/wouldn't pay to be crew, but that I'd surely earn my keep. The full impact of crew paying hadn't struck me until just that moment. I needed to talk to B and E about it. I caught them at a quiet moment and said I just hadn't known. When I had a beer, it had been one of theirs. They assured me it wasn't a problem. They had agreed completely to my coming along and appreciated the company more than I knew. Whew! I felt better, but I think I treated things just a little differently after that.

We shared lots of stories that day too. I learned that they had their own sailboat back in Scotland. "Notsnarc"... I think I spelled that right. It's their last name spelled backwards! They had originally planned to enter her in the Rally, but the Rally's minimum requirement of a motoring range (400 miles) eliminated their boat. Instead, they had most happy to come along with John and Brenda. Of course, a year of close quarters with another couple had had it's problems.

I'd also been witness (and assistant) to Elspeth's twice daily ritual of treating and re-bandaging Bills arm. While in Tahiti, B and E had rented a scooter to tour the island. You can probably guess the rest. A car pulled out in front of them and the bike went down. Elspeth had a few scrapes, but Bill had taken his the skin on his arm almost down to the bone as he skidded along the pavement. He couldn't go swimming and that alone was enough to make him crazy, but he wore a gauze bandage on one entire forearm and it was beginning to itch! Elspeth carefully applied some sort of concoction to help Bill's arm heal and keep it from drying out. The gauze was to help prevent a re-injury.

My quarters were the salon; my gear stacked behind the salon table as much out of the way as possible. I slept in some clothes and could never wander around naked. The floor of Saull-Itaire creaked whenever anyone walked on it. John had said it seemed like a good idea at the time when he'd cut up the one-piece cabin sole in order to gain access to storage underneath. Luckily, the watch schedule and the location of the head meant that it was only necessary to walk past me at the beginning & ending of each 4 hour watch. We had a fine passage to Tonga. Upon arrival, we cleared with the Tongan officials with great formality at the wharf then picked up a mooring buoy. I spotted a sailboat named "Quest" and wondered if it might be Jack from my Mexico cruising days. Who should I meet in town later? You guessed it!

An important note: I can't wear shorts here! Knees must be covered at all times. Guess I'll get a lot of use out of my pareos.

Once we got settled, I asked John if I could stay aboard for a day or so to give me the opportunity to find a permanent boat. He said there'd be no hurry and I could stay as long as I needed. That took some of the pressure off. I set up a few interviews right away... these interviews worked both ways. I had to like them and they had to like me. I'd finished my first interview and was waiting on the dock to meet the next when John and Brenda dinghied ashore. They stopped to talk and to apologize... "apologize for what" I said. Seems that all is not well aboard the Saull-Itaire and there's some tention between them and B and E. I said I hadn't felt it, but it was likely that my presence wasn't helping. Brenda assured me that was not the case and, in fact, things had improved a bit since I came aboard. Anyway, they were sorry and wanted me to know they planned to ask Bill and Elspeth to leave in Fiji.

I've spoken with Arabian Sands" and "Jonathan. Best Respects" and "Taos Brett haven't arrived yet. Hell, I haven't even met them! Jonathan wants me on my terms, but that's a rather strange situation. Their current crew, the one who twice filled their diesel tank with water, hasn't been told yet so my interview was conducted on deck as he worked below. I like all the crew on Arabian Sands, but they were all obviously afraid to talk in the captain's presence. I've heard plenty of stories since!

Saull-Itaire moved to an outer island, "Vakaeitu" where there's a tiny restaurant owned by a German fellow and his island wife. Not a lot of food choices, but quite good food and plenty of alcoholic beverages. Reservations are required! No kidding. They need to know in the morning how many people are dining that night. If they don't answer the VHF radio, you must hike up to the restaurant and make your reservations in person. I'd call it a palapa style restaurant if I were still in Mexico... thatched roof and wood or dirt floors, hanging basket chairs instead of bar stools, and half walls that let in plenty of breeze. I attended every social function even though I was trying to conserve my cash just so I could meet and really get to know everyone.

This picture is one of only a few from my time with the Rally. Brenda took it. It's me and Tony, the New Zealander, who'd been sailing with the Ailsa J crew. I first met him in Niue after he'd been rolled in the surf and bounced into the rocks a few times during a dive with a local character. He'd also suffered the traditional infections from the injuries and was finally starting to recover. There was nothing between us, but we seemed to spend a lot of time talking. I guess we were both different enough from the others to be the same in some way.

I had offered to clean the bottom of Saull-Itaire and this was my chance. I had to do it in two sessions, but I was impressed with just how clean the bottom was. John was impressed that I had not only volunteered, but I had made good on my offer. He took me aside one morning when no one else was awake and told me he had a plan. His good friends, Tom and Pat on Best Respects were due to arrive today and he wanted me to sail with them to Fiji since they'd lost their crew. There would be someone else on board, probably David from Alb. This was temporary because John said he had a permanent position for me aboard Saull-Itaire from Fiji on. It would be there that he would ask B and E to leave because it would be easier to make the transfer between boats. He'd also planned to get Best Respects to take on B and E as permanent crew. I later found that JOHN took care of this other Rally boat in many ways. I was pleased. He said he'd go have a chat with Tom as soon as they arrived then bring me over. That's what happened.

Something was broken and the skipper of Alb was on board doing a repair when I arrived. Pat offered me something to drink and I sat & talked with her as Tom watched the repairs. A cable tie was needed to finish things up and Tom didn't have any... but I did. Funny how I seem to be in the right place at the right time :-) I was on! I didn't move aboard until the day we left Tonga, several days away.

Things didn't go so well with B and E. They didn't want to trade boats in Fiji. Not that they didn't like Tom and Pat, but that it was just the principal of the thing. They had hoped to make it to Cairns where they planned to leave the Rally anyway. This thing with them paying half of the Rally fees had complicated things. Anyway, they refused Tom's offer.

Back to Tonga, though. There were parties everywhere! This was the half-way point and cause for celebration!!! Tongan Feasts with dozens of different traditional foods spread out on long palm frond mats on the floor, Kava (the local hallucinogenic drink), music and dancers. Everyone sat on the floor eating with their fingers. For the Kava, we had to walk around the corner into a small room and ask for a coconut full. We could do this as often as we liked, but it wasn't just passed around. There is quite a tradition behind Kava and it's treated with more reverence than that. It's been used throughout Tongan history as a negotiation tool. It begins to do its "magic" by numbing the tongue. Then the mouth. Then the Throat. Then the entire body! It's easy to negotiate when neither party is capable of dissenting!

Back on the main island (the King's island) the one and only free-of-charge party took place. The "Rally" paid for this one. All the others had been of the pay-as-you-go type. It was catered and, as it happens, I'd met the chef in a local establishment the night before. Boy did I get special treatment... and I didn't tell anyone why ;-) I just let them wonder! But there were two real hilights of this evening. First, the "Aitutaki Coconuts" performed. A group of the Rally crew folk who'd dressed in Tongan garb and painted their bodies, danced and sang to the delight of the crowd. They were FANTASTIC! Second, I met Dr. Malcolm McLaren, Fleet Commodore and instigator of the Rally! He was sitting at a small table talking with David, the skipper of Arabian Sands. I said hello to David, and he introduced me to Malcolm. I stuck out my hand and said "Nice to meet ya Malcolm". He looked at my hand, looked at David, looked at my hand, looked at David. It was really funny. I just kept holding my hand out until he took it and said "Hello". I guess I was one of the few people who treated him like an equal!

There was a mass check-out the next day, but it was raining so only a few brave souls actually left. I was settled on Best Respects and had tried to convince B and E to stay with the Rally, but it didn't look good.

Best Respects had a fine passage even though we didn't catch any fish... they had no lures and my creation fashioned out of multi-colored rubber bands wasn't very appealing to the fish. David and I took turns cooking each trying to "one up" the other. There was plenty of lively music on board and David had brought a few CD'S of his own. The boat didn't sail very well downwind though. It had aft lowers that prevented the main from being let out all the way. Oh well! I enjoyed the people.

We arrived in Fiji over the weekend and Tom paid the overtime fee so Pat could go ashore. Seem's she really didn't enjoy the cruise and wanted to fly to Cairns to wait for Tom. He was trying hard to change her mind and thought a nice day ashore might do the trick. It didn't.