There was a time in our lives on Kodiak when such events occurred with reasonable frequency, and we were lucky enough to know a set of people living in that desperately out-of-it fishing town who could make an evening like that actually feel sophisticated and fun, and not like a kid’s dress-up party, which is hard. Those events had faded away by the time we left town, and they don’t seem to be catching on in the other coastal towns that we’ve visited. So this was the first chance that Alisa got to wear the dress. But I digress.
While I was out snorkeling, Alisa had taught Elias to say, “Dad, let’s party!” and decorated the salon with crepe paper and ribbons. Eli and I dressed up in necklaces, and he learned to say “necklace”, too. Here we are, in the midst of our revelry:
And, just for the heck of it, here are pictures of us one year ago:
When Alisa saw that last photo she immediately noticed that her eyes were puffy from crying – the picture was taken one day after our tear-washed exit from Kodiak. The difference between the puffy-eyed picture and her exuberant picture does a lot to encapsulate our experience in this year. Leaving Kodiak might have been the most difficult thing that either of us have ever done. And there were a lot of gut-wrenching moments in the following year as we made the fits-and-starts transition away from the Alaskan life that we loved so much. And yet, here we are, thoroughly engaged in this incredible new way of living that might be just as hard to give up when the time comes. I am overcome with the sense of how little time any of us have. Over and over I say to Alisa, “Don’t you want to live three or four lives so we could spend one just being total homebodies in a place like Kodiak and another sailing the world and still have one or two left over to figure out what to do with?”
I am writing this at anchor in Raiataea. We spent eight days in Pape’ete, Tahiti and left yesterday, arriving in Raiataea today. Pape’ete is infamous among yachties, but we had a good time there.
Here’s our first view of Tahiti, at dawn after the 48 hour sail from the Tuamotus:
Here’s Elias the same morning, fresh from bed and still wearing his PJs. I was tired from being up half the night as we closed the island, but I found my consolation in holding his warm little body and listening to his explanation of how we had lost a fishing lure two days before. In the picture he’s pantomiming a shark biting the lure. The kid is a morning person.
You’ll notice the other yachts cluttering up the view in this picture. During the cyclone-free season there are hundreds and hundreds of yachts in the Society Islands. Tahiti, Moorea and Bora Bora are the places where the South Pacific dream first came to life, but today the anchorages are so crowded, and the islands are so tourist-jaded, and the prices are soooo high, that Alisa and I have decided to hit fast forward on this part of the trip. We’re just using the Societies as a chance to get some boat work done, and once it’s done we’re out of here.
Every visiting boat has to check in at Pape’ete, which is why that town is particularly heaving with yachts. We enjoyed the crowds during our stay there, though, as we weren’t in any way looking for an experience beyond the Yachtie Scrum. We saw lots and lots of boats that we had seen previously in French Polynesia, and we got into the excitement of all these people embarked upon the same very rewarding though ultimately self-involved dream trip that we are engaged upon.
We also enjoyed some of the benefits of having, if I may say so, one of the coolest hailing ports possible emblazoned on our stern. We were lucky enough to meet Richard and Michelle of Thélème, who came over one day to say hi because they spent the winter in Kodiak on their boat ten years ago. These two are the last in a short list of really interesting long-term voyaging sailors whom we have met in French Polynesia, people who have been sailing the world for decades, and who have a twinkle in the their eyes announcing that they are still enjoying it. Richard and Michelle are currently refitting Thélème for a two-year stint in Patagonia. I learned two interesting things from Richard: that it is impossible to count on having any tropical anchorages to yourself outside of hurricane season, and that French sailors say about boats like ours, “It’s so American, if it were any more American, it would be dead.”