3 May 2010
The three days and nights at anchor in the tranquillity of Huahine is just exactly what we needed. We had been feeling a little tired of late. Perhaps going around the world in fifteen months might have something to do with it! We were also suffering the marine version of "being grounded". With our newly repaired tender out of action due to a large gaping hole in one of the tubes we could not go ashore. We were confined to the boat. Fortunately we had been lucky enough to tour the whole of the island four years ago in company with John and Marian Morse so our enforced stay was not too much of a hardship. Far from it, we woke every morning to swim in water so clear we could see tropical fish swimming along the bottom. We devoured our books, we enjoyed the never ending stream of Polynesian music that wafted across the water to us and dined well. We eat the same way as would we would at home. Pork and lamb chop dinners served with roast potatoes, fresh vegetables and gravy are a regular on board. Roast chicken dinners, cauliflower cheese with crispy bacon and onion too are favourites too. Our three night dinner menu here was Jambalaya, a Creole dish I frequently make, Chilli con carne, and a fish pie made from fresh mahi mahi, kindly donated by Brown Eyed Girl. This we washed down with good bottled wine, a pleasant change from the usual "chateaux cardboard" as we like to call it. There is no reason not to eat well on board Voyageur. I have an excellent four burner stove and a good oven. I stand in a pool of perspiration in the galley. The heat is intense but in spite of that we still have a cooked evening meal every single day. (I seem to recall I once read somewhere that Susan Hiscock did the self same thing so feel that I should emulate her!) The only vegetable tins I ever open are mushrooms. They are not only very hard to get but they just do not keep well in the fridge. I try wherever possible to use what is in season, just now it is mangoes, pineapples, melons and papayas. Many of the other things have to be imported. My potatoes are from New Zealand, grapes from the US, the oranges from California.
We left our Huahine haven, heaven behind. We have a date with the boatyard on Raiatea. Tomorrow is lift out day and I am getting increasingly nervous about it. For a start the crane is only 25 tons. Although we only come in at around twenty tons, the one which has lifted Voyageur at Yatlift was 70tons. Also it is not a yard we have any experience of. I know this may sound pathetic but familiarity breeds a source of contentedness. I fuss and fret about their expertise and capability to haul our beloved floating home onto dry land. We were assured there would be a mooring buoy for us to pick up. We searched in vain. Nothing. Every buoy that looked remotely up to the task of was taken. Nothing for it but to anchor and hope not to get caught on yet another lump of coral. Looking through the binoculars the travel hoist looks tiny. In fact all the yachts ashore look rather small. They were supposed to have lifted Thetis but then said that he was too heavy. We do not see him on a mooring anywhere so perhaps they were successful. The wind gusted to over twenty knots. I kept myself busy cooking dinner while David prepared the back stays for loosening in the morning. The yard starts at 07.30am and they are lifting two boats. What is the betting we are not the first? I go to sleep praying that the wind dies down and that the anchor does not get stuck when we are due to lift it. I also hope that they have shore power for us for I have just restocked my freezer with meat to last us all the way to Australia. Now is the time to exercise the power of positive thinking.
Susan Mackay