Ode to a clean bilge

Admittedly not everyones cup of tea (or bilge water), however the bilge can be a great tool in the diagnosis of many things “boat”.

It is one of the first things I open when looking at a boat. It tells you a lot about the vessel.

1. Does the owner care enough to clean the bilge?

2. What is the water?

3. Is there oil?

4. Rust?

Many a time I have used the bilge to diagnose problems. 

Water! <Taste>...Fresh! We have an internal leak. 

A few minutes of hunting reveals a lose hose clamp in the fresh water system.

Water! Salty this time...A little more ominous! Searching reveals that the lip seal on the salt water cooling pump had gone or stern gland dripping. A simple fix, but the bilge told me.

I have yet to have any oil in the bilge (touch wood). However that would lead me to another set of diagnostics all together (probably engine related...)

Fiddling around in the bilge and cleaning it out gives me plenty of opportunity to test the bilge pump.

Does the automatic pump kick in? When it does what rate does it drain the bilge?

I clean out all the hair and grit etc that collects that might impede the flow of water in an emergency situation. Fortunately the shower in the head drains to a separate sump so minimal hair collects in the bilge. 

Ah the bilge. I very rarely have a completely dry one. (I don't have a dripless stern gland). But I do check it regularly and look for any warning signs. 

Suwarrow

We went to Suwarrow and caught crabs! Not to worry friends and family, these were not the "scratch your nether regions in mild discomfort" type, but rather the large coconut eating, crush your finger, size of a dinner plate crabs. But more on that later!

Why did we only go to one Cook Island! There are too many places in the world and too little time in this measly lifespan to see them all. One thing remains, we are very glad we chose to visit Suwarrow. As an island it is nothing exceptional. If you have been to the Tuamotus, you have seen similar. What makes the place so special are the caretakers on the island. 

Charlie and Harry are the seasonal caretakers of Suwarrow (a national park) and live there for the entire cruising season. The island has a lot of history. Most famous is the story of Tom Neale (a New Zealander) who gave up civilisation and moved to the island and wrote a book of his accounts. Apparently the story is a lot more rosy than reality may have actually been! But hey, who wants to read a depressing book about paradise right? 

The Cooks are part of New Zealand (protectorate) and as the Kiwi's model many of their systems and processes on their neighbours the Ozzies, there was a tome of paperwork to fill out. Fortunately my trusty scribe was at hand to perform the penmanship while I played gracious host to Charlie and Harry. Usually the guys chill out in a pair of shorts, but when duty calls, on comes the uniform (shirt and shorts, not shoes, longs and lapels). Name tags are clipped on the belt and armed with a significant amount of pen ink they board your boat with broad smiles. $50 USD gets you 2 weeks in beautiful Suwarrow. It used to be called Suvarov after the Russian vessel that landed there way back when, but in '69 it officially became Suwarrow. 

As a welcome, the custodians invited us to a (pre arranged) BBQ ashore later that afternoon with the rest of the yachties. Fish provided by locals and pots of luck by the cruisers. 

What a wonderful start to the Suwarrow adventure. 

We had read up about the place before we landed and knew that the hosts did all sorts of cool stuff with the visiting sailors. Offloading 20litres of gasoline on them and some spare food, we immediately were written into their good books. Charlie offered to take me fishing one of the days (see Wahooo post) which was a unique and entertaining experience. Especially the afterwards part, where Charlie and I hung around the carcass of the butchered wahoo eating sashimi with a piece of fresh coconut and a splash of lime all the while he teased me about my shitty knife work. 

Yachties came ashore and once a fair portion had gathered, we went to feed the sharks. Using the heads and off cuts of the fish, these were thrown out (responsibly) on the windward side of the island. The tide was low and the black and white tips would come in close to feed on the scraps. The odd grey shark would make an admirable attempt to join in but the water level being just too low for comfort, it would slide in on a wave and then scamper out on its belly. The feeding frenzy that ensures with 12 sharks wrestling with a fish head is quite a spectacle. 

On the menu was coconut crab, wahoo steaks on the BBQ, tuna "raw fish" or poisson cru, coconut bread made from the apple of the coconut and a variety of cruiser potluck dishes. 

The coconut bread was interesting. It is made from this kinda fluffy ball that grows inside a germinating coconut (i.e. one that is sprouting). This ball is grated and then with a bit of flour and water, made into "cakes" and fried in oil. Tastes very sweet like it should be on the dessert trolley rather than the dinner table. Very nice though! 

Poisson cru island style was very simple too. Smallish chunks of raw fish are cut. Grate the "meat" of 5 brown coconuts. Using cheese cloth, handfuls of grated coconut are squeezed out into a bowl. This milk is then added to the fish as well as a couple squeezes of fresh lime. It is then left to sit in the fridge for a couple of hours to "cook". 

The coconut crab was enormous and reminded me of snow crab. Legs and claws were beaten to crack the thick carapace. The taste, funnily enough was that of coconut. Very good and worth having again! 

With stomachs full and glasses topped up, Harry and Charlie began their welcoming ceremony by singing and dancing. Local songs were sung and a Cook Island hukka performed to entertain the crowds. A few cruisers sang a few of their own songs. Sally and I did not.

The next day we went with our dutch friends on Pelagie to see the bird colony and to coconut crab island. A large breeding colony of frigates, boobies, terns and tropic birds nested on a little motu (island) not far from the anchorage. Charlie played guide as you are not allowed to go and disturb the birds unescorted. We walked around the island admiring the nests and shoving camera lenses into the mildly annoyed faces of the residents. Many of whom took exception and flew above our heads creating an awful din of what must have been the birdie equivalent of a raised middle finger. 

We had never been so up close and personal with birdlife like that before and were very grateful for the experience. 

Sawarrow bird colony

Baby frigate bird calling us names

Someone call me a Boobie?

Frigate family

Coconut crab island is exactly that. You can barely move without some red / blue monster waving its claws at you telling you to "watch where you walk". After seeing a programme about how these not so little guys dehusk a coconut, I was not keen to be on the receiving end of a friendly little pinch. Charlie's party trick is to climb a coconut tree and grab a few nice sized drinking nuts. With a sharp blade and years of experience, we were soon all standing around slurping from oversized green cups. 

Coconut crab (they are pretty big)

Thirst quenched, we went for a snorkel and admired the pillars that thrust their way towards the light in a canyon of coral. As a nature park, I would have expected to see large fish and many of them, but the Tuamotus still is the winner for species and numbers. 

Not more than about a quarter of a mile away, manta rays come and get cleaned by the local wrasse population. They circle a coral head while little fish eat all the parasites on the large rays. Perfect opportunity to snorkel with them. They are accustomed to humans and don't mind the odd scratch behind the ear. These were some of the largest rays we had seen.

Not all animals want to be your friend, Sally!

Natures dentist

How cool is my camo rash vest!

We were really sorry to leave Suwarrow after a mere 5 days, but a suitable weather window appeared and had to be taken. One of our favourite islands to date and all due to two people's warmth and hospitality. Thanks Charlie and Harry!

Jaws!

Resetting the anchor (40ft) Shot taken from the surface - water was amazing!

Creepy little fish giving me the eyeball!

Wahoooooo!

"Dylan, there is some one here!" said Sally shaking me by my still fast asleep shoulder.

Shoulder and rest of my prone torso slowly returned to the present, shedding the depravities that my Id had forced through to my subconscious. There it was again…a noise in the cockpit. The sun was still contemplating joining this side of the earth and the odd star remained, reluctant to leave what had been a beautiful night above Suwarrow Island in the middle of the pacific ocean. 

Fumbling out of bed, dragging a still-not-quite-awake leg behind me like a gun shot victim, I dashed up the companion way to be greeted by a Cook Islander leaning into the boat from his dinghy. 

"C'mon, lets go" urged Charlie in a thick kiwi accent. He was early and I was naked. This did not seem to bother him, however my prudish conscious seemed to kick in and I hastily grabbed at the nearest board shorts and in my haste tried to wear a rash vest. Not wanting to prove any stereo types true I turned away so that he could admire my Casper the Ghost, salt pimpled backside.

I jumped into his "tinny" (read large aluminium dinghy for all those non Ozzie / Kiwi readers) and we proceeded to wake up the rest of the anchorage as we headed towards a large motor yacht. 

"This fella is coming too" - the missing front teeth provided a slight whistling sound as he spoke. 

The pungent aroma of gasoline and long dead fish tickling my nose in the predawn morn. 

Once "this fella" (another yachtie) had joined us, we proceeded towards the pass. 

"Wear that" said the man of few words pointing to a monkey shit orange life vest that looked like it would be more hindrance than help in a life or death situation.

Just outside the pass, engine went off and Charlie tossed a shirt over his shoulders. "Must sa' a prae". Oh boy, hope this is not where we all hold hands. That is not what I signed up for. 

Charlie quickly mumbled something the language of the Cook Islands. Engine on, lines out and away we went. 

Now by "lines", I can only describe them as 50 ft of 200lbs monofilament with some wonky polypropylene attached to the end with a loop. On the business end swung a large 12 inch rapala type of lure. The reason they are only 50ft long is that if they are any longer and if you delay in pulling in the catch, you will generally lose it to the local shark population. Not to be greedy, the sharks generally leave you the head. However not being French, I was no fan of bouillabaisse!

I was dragging one of the lines and enjoying the feeling of having cut off all circulation to my right hand. A couple of strikes on both the lines proved that large aquatic species were partial to what we had on offer. Charlie almost landed a big eye tuna but it slipped the hook just near the boat. 

Dolphins appeared and began frolicking in the bow wave. A usually calm and placid Charlie started hopping up and down and cursing away. Dolphins have a nasty habit of scaring off fish large and small. 

The sea was large and the wind was up. Being young and ugly I rode in the bow. Always the most comfortable spot in a pitching dinghy. Charlie the skipper was at the helm of the 25HP Yamaha and the other yachtie who started in the bow had crept back and was almost in young Charlie's lap. 

I was glad that I had no fillings as they would have all shaken loose with the jarring and bouncing. The odd wave leapt up and slapped me in the face just to remind me who was boss. We trolled a bit further, my nipples hard enough to cut glass thanks to the wind chill. Nothing. 

Big plans had already been made. There was to be a large potluck on shore that evening with all the fish to be provided by Charlie. His reputation was at stake here! Bitterly disappointed, we headed back home. 

"We go bak at 11" 

"I'm in!" 

"I will skip the next one" said the other older gentleman who probably was not expecting or used to the rough conditions that were in play. He was the owner of a 90ft motor yacht that has stabilisers and deep pockets. 

Out we went again. No "prea" this time - must be a once a day thing. Lines out and 15 minutes later something was tugging on my lure. 

"Whoa, I got something!"

"Git it in, quik". 

I started over handing the garrotte wire line into the pitching dinghy. Not having had a chance to even marginally tire the little sucker at the end of the line it protested by trying to zoom off, taking the line with it and creating the 200lbs mono equivalent of paper cuts on my already soggy "been in the bath for 45 minutes" hands. 

Back to the polyprop, I was determined to land this beast. Hell, if pacific islanders can do it, so can I!

Overhanding at almost 6 ft of line at a time, I drew the fish closer. The time old fisherman's game of "what he got?" being played out by the two of us. Charlie by this time had brought in his line and the lure was leaping around in the bottom of the dinghy creating more excitement in a game I like to call "where do i put my feet". 

I saw a shimmer, "MAHI!" 

False alarm, was the lure in its mouth. "Tuna!"…

It got closer. Stripes. A Wahoooooooooo. 

Never caught a wahoo before. Probably lost many a lure to the bastards, but never landed one. I redoubled my efforts. This whole process probably taking in total 15 seconds from bite to landing.

Charlie grabbed the end of the line and flicked the 4ft wahoo into the dinghy. 

We then proceeded to give it its last rites by blessing it on the head (repeatedly) with a heavy bough. We both did a little jig in the dinghy and with a lot of macho handshaking and congratulating. 

Lures went back out and dolphins popped around to see what the commotion was about. 

One fish would be enough and we headed home.

Clearing into French Polynesia

The expensive way or the easy way, choice is yours. There was a lot of table discussion in Panama before we left regarding people's strategies for clearing into French Polynesia. If you are a European national, this is no problem. Hence Sally was fine however I was the issue.

There are 2 official ways to clear in. 

1. Pay a large bond equivalent to a very expensive one way ticket out of French Polynesia. 

2. Pay an agent $250 (per vessel - regardless of crew numbers I believe)

The trouble with the bond is that you need to have roughly $2000 per person. They then nail you by exchanging your dollars/ pounds / whatever currency into Polynesian Francs at a shitty exchange rate. Then when you come to get it back, they nail you in reverse to convert to your required currency. There is also a "handling" fee of about $30 too. No idea what the spread is on the exchange rate, but you are not going to be any richer.

As for the agent, there is the argument that it allows you to buy duty free fuel if you use them. I am sure there are other ways to get it if you need it though. 

What a number of vessels did was book 100% refundable air ticket out of the country for 90 days time. You can book online on Expedia for example for a 1 way 100% refundable ticket. You can then show your ticket to immigration and then once cleared in cancel the ticket. No money lost.

OR - Just write up return flight details on your computer. Convert it to PDF and place it on a memory stick. Take the memory stick to immigration, they print off your flight details and welcome you to French Polynesia. It really was that easy. 

There is also a bit of confusion about having to go to Tahiti to "clear in" officially as all the outer islands are only Gendarmerie. We traipsed off to Papeete to seek out the "yacht master" to clear in and although filled out a form that said we had arrived in Tahiti, did not have to see customs or immigration again as our passports were already stamped etc. 

You can probably skip this step…(others did)

Clearing out of Bora Bora was painless. Filled out the same form as when we cleared in. Then had to post if off to Tahiti (the stamp was once 55 XFP cents, now it is 75… that's inflation for you) 

I waited longer in the post office to get a stamp than I did in the the Gendarmerie to clear out.

Bora Bora

Not all that you read is true. This includes glossy travel write ups and cruising guides. In the case of Bora Bora it turns out that the glossy travel mag articles painting Bora Bora as "one of the more beautiful places on the planet"…are true. The unflattering cruising guides (mostly written many years ago) berate the place due to tourists and hotels. Neither of which need to bother you if you choose to anchor out and enjoy it for what it is. 

One can truly see why this is one of THE top honeymoon destinations. As Sally and I have a few friends nearing "wedding age", we highly recommend Bora Bora as a potential location for chilling out post nuptials (although you may need to take out  a second mortgage to do it).

The water is some of the clearest we have seen inside an atoll. There is the occasional boat / jet ski that sped past us but not nearly as many as in Moorea. We dropped the hook just after entering the pass as it is in 15 ft of fine sand which proved great holding when the wind picked up to 41knots (76km). With amazing clarity we can see each grain of sand on the bottom.

There is a lot to do here. Everything from diving with sharks and manta rays, to feeding bread to beautiful arrays of semi-tamed fish. We have never seen a as many spotted eagle rays as we did on a snorkel through a channel. There must have been 150 of the little buggers at about 20ft. 

For the well heeled tourist you can wait for a clear day and do a helicopter ride over the island. If the photos are anything to go by it must be a truly spectacular event seeing it from seagull height. 

For those on a slightly different budget, you can always climb the mountain on the island and see the view. 

This is probably one of the most beautiful places we have ever been to. It is definitely our favourite Society Island. The tourists seem to stay in the resorts and occasionally zoom to / from the airport or snorkel spots in fancy outriggers. There are charter boats but anchorages are measured in miles so finding ones own spot far from the crowd is not hard. There are also plenty of anchoring spots along the fringe reef. The eastern side of the island was far less busy than the west. The east was probably a lot better protected when the front hit as it is sheltered by motus with vegetation. 

The front built up 5 meter swells that dumped a lot of water into the atoll and as such our speedo was measuring 1.5 knots of current zooming past us (and we weren't even in the deep channel where it was probably rushing at 3 knots). Combined with the wind on the nose, our friends on Ninita needed a bit of help getting to the anchorage. We are often very glad we have a 10hp outboard and a hard bottom dinghy. 

We contemplated climbing the mountain like a few of our yachtie friends had already done, but decided instead to have a lovely bike ride around the island. It is interesting to see the comparison between the international resorts, pearl shops etc and the locals houses, some decorated with the occasional lawn ornament washing machine or rusty car (sans tires…or engine). 

Apparently Bora Bora used to attract 250k tourists a year. That figure has fallen to around 150k. As such there are a lot of dilapidated / closed resorts. This downturn has seemingly not affected some companies pricing strategy, as they still charge thousands of dollars per night.

The Mai Kai Yacht Club is a great spot to park the dinghy for the day whilst going ashore. They also have internet there, a swimming pool, dive shop and mooring balls at $50 for a week. Bora Bora Yacht Club is a little further away from the action, but better sheltered when the wind gets up as Mai Kai has 3+ miles of southerly fetch. 

We are sad we could not stay longer in Bora Bora as it really is a fantastic place but we must keep heading West and take the weather windows when they come!

Move over Moorea

We were really looking forward to Cooks Bay in Moorea. We had heard so much about it from other cruisers. Exiting Tahiti's hustle, bustle and commercialisation that is common in all "capital" cities. 

The only thing that kept us in Tahiti for so long was waiting for our propane bottle to be filled which took a few days. 

The sail to Cooks Bay was great. We had 15 knots of wind and flew the spinnaker much of the way. 

We cruised through the pass and headed deep into the bay. The one thing the French have done very well is buoyed the whole of Polynesia. Lights blink at night; greens and reds are where they are according to the charts. 

There were a total of 5 boats moored in the bay. Nice! We love uncrowded. The Bali Hai hotel is written up in the cruising guides as "The" place to be and anchor off. It would seem a lot has changed since 1985 when the guide was written. The Bali Hai is a fairly dilapidated hotel with a few huts balancing precariously on sticks in the water. Bored looking tourists take the occasional dip in the fetid water at the bottom of their private staircase into the Pacific to stare at whatever may inhabit the grey coral.

We puttered around the bay looking for an anchoring spot in less than 50 feet of water. We found an area near the treacle brown river of what may have been human effluent. I usually dive on our anchor to ensure that it is bedded. This time I passed.

We stayed 2 nights as it gave us an opportunity to explore and go for a great walk to the nearest village. We then upped sticks and headed for Opunoa Bay. This time choosing not to go into the bay but rather the anchorage between fringe reef and land. Much better! Anchored in 15ft of crystal clear water. Stingrays sidestepped us on their way to feeding spots. Eagle rays fornicated (or wrestled…if there is a difference) on the reef in front of us. 

Our friends on Living were also in the anchorage (along with numerous other boats and we could see why) so we spent a lot of time with them. Patrick and I went off spearfishing on the outer reef. Although we had our guns, it became mainly just a free diving practise session in beautifully clear water on windless days. Fish larger than one's thumb were rare and coral not yet recovered from the last hurricane (apparently). 

Walking to Belvedere Point was a good adventure. It is all along the road so easy to get to. A great view of both the bays and just fun to get "inland" a bit. A cruise ship had just anchored in Opunoa Bay and disgorged a bunch of either translucent or sun reddened passengers who then rented cars (or 4 wheelers) and then zoomed past us to take their picture at the lookout before hustling off to the next attraction on the Lonely Planet "Thing to do in Moorea if you only have 3 hours" to do list. 

There is a spot near the Intercontinental Hotel called stingray city. It was about 2 miles from the boat (by dinghy). Although the route is fairly well marked, we still managed to beach ourselves on coral and had to walk the dinghy back into the deep. Thank goodness we have a hard bottom dink, and flip flops at the ready! Once there we plopped into waist deep water with a tin of tuna in oil and octopus pieces (also in oil). Don't judge our culinary taste, this was the best that Panama bulk buying had to offer! 

Tuna tended to flake in ones hand. The fish enjoyed it, but the stingies were disinterested. Then we brought out the occy. Man they did enjoy that. Holding it in our fingers the ray would swim up to you and came a difficult task of getting a little piece of octopus into its mouth without losing a finger. 

In all fairness to the ray, you try eating something when your eyes are on the back of your head, nose on the top and mouth where it currently is. Mistakes happen and twice was my index finger mistaken for a delicious piece of long dead marine creature. Needless to say that a ray has an interesting mouth with hard rough "plate like" jaw. While a nip on the finger is rather disconcerting, it is not painful. A group of 6 small black tip sharks circled the proceedings with keen envy while their arch nemesis the rays received plenty of not only food, but attention too. I expected a ray's skin to feel similar to shark. It can't be further from it. It is beautifully soft and smooth on the wings and then hardens to a bumpy plate like texture along the backbone. 

The ever friendly rays would come right up to you and then try and mount your chest in a perverted attempt to cajole another piece of food from you. They also seemed to have a fun game of sneaking up on the more skittish of tourists / yachties and surprising them. So much so that some of the more nervous retreated to the safety of their dinghies. I supposed Steve Irwin's memory was still fresh with some of them. Another interesting fact (depends on the definition I suppose) is that the stinger is half way along the tail, not at the tip of the tail. 

After a few days of chilling out in fantastic calm conditions, the wind made a reappearance and we decided to make the most of it and head to Raiatea. After a good day sail, once again having to slow poor old Orion down to make landfall in daylight, we entered the fringe reef. 

Anchoring is terrible in Raiatea and if we had to do it over / recommend other options, I would say go to Huahine and then to Bora Bora (skip Raiatea and Tahaa). We eventually ended up mooring alongside the town dock (which is free) and staying for 2 nights. 

We had a long walk to the other side of Raiatea and went to the start of the Heiva festival to watch the singing and dancing. As there was a large blow expected in the next few days, we wanted to get into a better anchorage so left for Bora Bora.

Welcome to Tahiti

Yes, most people have heard of Tahiti and probably more famous is the island of Bora Bora (also part of the group known as the Society Islands). After a fast 1.5 day sail to do 200 miles (and having to slow the boat down again!) we cruised into Tahiti. There was not a lot of info on places to anchor as most boats that were talking on the net were on mooring balls. At $10 per day I could not see the point when one can anchor for free! 

We heard another vessel on the VHF mention that they were anchored near Tahiti Yacht Club and no one was near them. We zoomed over to their spot and dropped our pick in 65ft of water. A little deeper than I like, but thats the Pacific for you! I dusted off the rode that I had not used since Fatu Hiva (our first night) and shackled that on and dumped out about 4/5 to one scope. Glad I did as it was blowing 25knots. 

We were behind the fringe reef and well sheltered from any swell (except the occasional fishing boat that liked to zoom past). All the fishing boats here seem to use a stick in the bow attached to steering cables as their helm. None of this fancy steering wheel stuff here! 

As Tahiti and the rest of the islands are gearing up for the inter island festival / competition, there were loads of out rigger canoes (paddle only unfortunately either 1 man or 8 man being shunted up and down the flat calm inner reef area where we were anchored. Fun to watch. Also amusing were the kids in the optimists sailing around us. Loads of French chattering. Interesting that the locals all seem to be speaking French as the common language on the islands it was more Marquesan or Tuamotan. 

That night we met our friends from Living in town. We were running a little late and hurrying along the road when a couple in a large truck (most people in Polynesia seem to drive fancy / new cars!) offered us a ride. It was completely in the opposite direction for them, but they took us into town and asked nothing in return (despite us insisting that they take some money from us). Polynesians are a great nation of people. We often get bonjour's where ever we go (Sally gets hooted at…a lot).

While in town Patrick showed us a spot to get great nosh. All these vans congregate in a car park near the water front and they have full blown kitchens inside. What amazed us was the amount of chinese influence in the cooking. This has a large to do with the amount of chinese that live in Tahiti. Interesting fusion of tastes. It was a brief 1 hour walk back to the boat from town as buses stop running at 5:30pm in Tahiti. No one seems to over do the whole work thing here. 

The lovely thing about being where we were (most people go another 5+ miles to Marina Taina) was the proximity to town and the Carrefour (supermarket). A large European supermarket was like heaven since our last encounter with one was in Curacao (Caribbean) last year. I must admit we did get a bit carried away! Lots of goodies from New Zealand. If the products and produce are anything to go by, New Zealand gets a thumbs up in the culinary department!

We went to clear in (very much a formality as we had already done so in Hiva Oa). We just filled out a piece of paper with our details at the "yacht master's" office in the ferry terminal. We did not have to see immigration or customs. 

From there we went off to get the important stuff. Our chafed lines needed to be replaced. Well, they probably could have lasted but we believe in only the best for our little ship. She deserves it. Also changing steering control lines out at sea is not much fun! So we bought a new roller furled reefing line and Dyneema control line for the wind vane. Along with a few other odds and sods. We exited the marine stores feeling financially raped. But some how justfied the costs. 

We also decided to get staph infections! Nothing says "I have survived the South Pacific" quite like numerous physical scars from pus filled infections. Staph infections are a form of MRSA I believe. While plodding around town with the sore on my leg oozing funky stuff I decided to consult a pharmacist. With a lot of muttering and shaking of head and the odd prodding of my very inflamed and quite frankly rather owie pus filled cavity in my leg, he told me I would need antibiotics. The bad news was that in order to get them I had to go see a physician. This was starting to sound expensive. Around the corner was Mr Givet the GP. So up we went to see him. Before I could even negotiate examination costs with him, the friendly little dude had whisked me off to his office. It ended up being $30 for an examination (confirmation that it was a staph infection) and I got a free piece of paper with a list of antibiotics to take to the pharmacist. In for another $60 I actually received the pills. We really miss the Tuamotus!

Facebooking was also fairly expensive. $4.5 per hour here to use the net. You would think that would slow us down. Apparently not, as it is very important to us to be able to check that Timmy Johnson "likes" Dorothy Pages status of "out with friends in London" so that we too can comment or "like" it too! Note to self to add Mark Zuckerburg to my "people I don't think that I would get along with very well" list.

The only reason we stayed in Tahiti so long was due to getting our propane bottles refilled. It took almost 3 days (we only dropped them off on Monday after arriving on Friday).

Well, I write this lovely little post as the sun sets over our new bay in Moorea (Cooks Bay). It was a beautiful sail across here this morning. There was no wind in our anchorage and 15 knots offshore. We even flew the spinnaker for a bit. Perfect. I sit here with the gentle waft of wood smoke and coconut in the air and the sound of a million birds calling their goodnights to each other. The sky is an artist's palette of pinks.