En route to Fakarava,
We were up early, and off in the dinghy by 7 am. Chris went off to the shops and discovered the owner was the Mayor, who seemed to be the owner and managing director of all the businesses in the island (and, incidently, the owner of the biggest and smartest house in town). He also managed to buy the last five baguettes, and was surprised that they let him have them all. But there is another aircraft in today at lunch-time which will bring further supplies of this french essential. Meanwhile, the Skipper went to complete the formalities. There is no Gendarmarie (after all, there are only 240 people in this island), but there is a Municipal Policeman, who presumably busies himself preventing and investigating crime, issuing parking tickets and watching out for tresspassers and so forth, as well as administering to the various visiting yachts. Seeing the Skipper wating patiently on the steps of the Church for the office to open, the Chief of Police insisted on giving the Skipper a lift to the office. The hundred yards took rather longer to drive than to walk; he also insisted on driving the Skipper back to the church after the formalities (such as there were) were complete. There we were charged a tax of 40 Polynesian Francs per person per day for the privilige of staying in this wonderful place, and even the Skipper was happy to part with the two quid it had cost us. And he readily agreed to make an entry into their Visitors Book. Then it was back to Cleone, start the engine, haul up the anchor (by hand, and the chain had wrapped itself around some coral) and off across the lagoon in a good sailing breeze and the company of Aslolare.
Must stop - we are about to go through the gap in the reef, from where we should be able to see the next nearest islands, which we almost pass to get to Fakarava.
All well, and best wishes to everyone.
James, Chris and Will
Yacht Cleone
En Route to Fakarava
Tuamotus Islands