DAY 105
Q Lovely day, onshore wind and waves making dinghy landing and launching a bit exciting. Had a wave come clear over not only the side of the boat, but the entire engine as well while trying to shove off from shore. The excess water in the boat and the no longer running engine made the next few minuets rather hilarious as I was trying to row a partially submerged dinghy away from the waves breaking onto a Bomey, while trying to bail it, and get the engine running all at the same time while waves continued to slop over the bow. Took me several minutes to make it all of 15 feet when finally the motor sputtered to life, and I sped away… for a exhilarating 3 seconds before it choked on the water again and died. Wind calming tonight, Bluebird rocking to sleep yet again.
Miriam: Another day of waiting for the cutlass bearing necessary for us to travel onwards, and I feel myself relaxing into the quotidian rhythms of life at anchor in Apataki. I treasure the time for connection that this spacious moment has allowed, the deep conversations and silly banter, long wanders shelling in twos or mores that have me feeling a cohesive sense of ourselves as a crew. I am grateful for the companionship of these exceptional humans gathered by Naomi to explore the south seas with Bluebird as our wings. The Manta Rays continue to grace us with their presence. This motu has become so familiar, so dear, the road to the outer reef well traveled, the landmarks along the way mapped in memory. Sunset tonight was lavender grey thick with clouds above a blood orange tang of sun sinking into the sea; night has fallen and we are settled into our cozy home, gently rocked by lagoon tamed waves.
Ellen says Today we scraped our final scrapes of rubber scraps out of what will be the outer brass layer of our franken-bearing, Qwalen did some final shaping, and then we cemented together our offering to the boatyard gods with the appropriate sacrificial adhesive - 5200, which as any boatwork veteran will know is a relatively irreversible decision no matter what you are smearing it on. Hopefully this all will be sufficient to appease the boatyard gods and they will render our efforts futile by granting us the arrival of the real actual part from Papeete on Sunday, as it did not arrive today. Tomorrow we’ll test fit our creation, and possibly painstakingly file the tiniest bit off the outside perimeter with a hand file and Tony’s bench vice - a final dose of perfectionism may convince the gods we are truly serious about sailing out of this lagoon, regardless of which bit of metal and rubber is wedged between our strut and our shaft. No sign of our pet tiger shark, but the un-forecasted onshore winds we’re having are certainly making launching and dismounting our rowdy menagerie of dinghies entertaining. Also Megan and Naomi hid the intact blue carcass of a spiny lobster in Miriam’s clothing cubby and Jamie made pasta for dinner.
Naomi here, first we hid the blue lobbie in Jamie’s patio which frightened him to no end and gave us much mirth. I have a feeling everyone’s gonna be on their toes around here for a bit. Teehee. (Megan here - teehee.) That was probably the most productive thing I have done today apart from realising the hose that was dripping freshwater into the bilge which Jamie and I fixed the other day so it doesn’t drip freshwater, was, in fact, the drain for the chilly bin, draining all the skanky ice water into the bilge. I had turned it off thus pluggging up the chilly bin from draining. Whoopsies.
Jamie, a very quiet day for me today enjoying the company on the boat and doing some bread making and cooking. Naomi knows I am scared of crustaceans and yet proceeded to hide one in my room anyway. Good to know who your friends are I suppose. Word of the DAY: traitor (quite topical actually) : a person or animal who turns their back on you, sometimes in a time of need. A traitor can switch sides quickly for their own gain. Used in a senny: I joined a new gym. Thinking I’ll hire a personal traitor.
Ia orana, Megan here. Today I endured a series of misfortunes. On my way into shore to clean our floor cover and seat cushion covers, I stepped into the kayak and then promptly fell overboard. No matter, one gets rather wet in this kayak anyway. Later, Naomi and I journeyed a bit farther down the motu than we had been before. Near the boatyard, there are a few gravel paths that connect you from inner lagoon to outer reef. There were none of these where we came ashore, so we soldiered bravely through the undergrowth. I got on the wrong side of a pandanus and drove its serrated edge under my skin. I made it to the outer reef with a splinter and a bleeding knee. Naomi seemed fine and our efforts were rewarded with many nice shells and the lobster carcass that has been merrymaking about our cabin. On our return, again we bushwhacked, and when we were in the homestretch, I felt a sharp pain on my foot. As is my way, I immediately responded to the swell of panic - I yelped and began to thrash about in signature style. Just as quickly, I chastised myself. Surely I was, as usual, merely being chased by my own shadow. It was a prickle or similar, we were surrounded by sharp flora. I stood my ground and looked down to figure out exactly what had snagged me. It was at this moment that Naomi confirmed that I was in fact being attacked by wasps.
I immediately made a break for the water, the wasps thankfully did not follow, and I let the cool ocean settle my nerves. We continued down the beach to our kayak, where we found the paddle independently enjoying a swim courtesy of the higher tide. Whoops. Bless the incoming current for nudging it shoreward. Once we made it into the water and had navigated out of the shallows, Naomi asked whether I was experiencing any sort of sinking sensation. I became aware of the water sloshing cheerfully around my hips. I paddled considerably faster as Naomi bailed the kayak with her goggles, and eventually found the unplugged hole.
I retire this evening with a ballooned left foot and a welt the size of a generous pancake on my hip. But alive goddamnit, ALIVE.
Now taking name suggestions for our dead blue lobster.
Maururu! Bluebird out!