Day 87. Land Is Close

Day 87. Land Is Close “Marinochka, what if we hang around French Polynesia for five years or so? We’ll sort things out at home, then come back. We can take our time going through the video archives and making films—we’ve accumulated plenty of material over eight years and one and a half circumnavigations. In between, we’ll look for traces of Russians in the Pacific.” “No,” I say firmly. “I miss home so much right now that the very thought of living abroad makes me recoil. Let’s live at home for a year and a half, and then we’ll talk.” I remained this adamant for a long time—all three months of our journey across the Pacific. Right up until we came abeam of the Polynesian island of Moorea. If there is a more beautiful island anywhere in the world, it can only be Fatu Hiva in the Marquesas, according to our personal ranking. Antarctica is beautiful too, of course, but not so beautiful that we’d move there permanently. “You know, perhaps we could discuss it after all.” The captain laughed, while beautiful Moorea continued to glide past a couple of miles off our port side. “Lord, thank you for this beauty.” And what we felt after 85 days of a difficult journey across the ocean was happiness. We marked the nighttime completion of our circumnavigation via the great capes and Antarctica (see the previous post) with champagne, along with the beginning of the islands of French Polynesia. Now we just have to work out how and where we can get ashore and take care of repairs and restocking, before setting off on another long nonstop passage. Damn pandemic—how enjoyable this voyage could have been if it had included plenty of stops. The fresh-water problem is solved! The rains came. In just twenty-four hours, we collected 200 litres of water! We could hardly believe it ourselves when we poured it all into the tank. If only we could solve the problem with the watermaker too, we would no longer be dependent on rain. How good the last four years were! With a watermaker. And now it feels good to sail within sight of land. The wind alternately dies away and strengthens to a head-on 30 miles per hour. During the few hours when it blows like that, the oncoming waves break right over the heads of everyone standing in the stern. “Why don’t you go and film the waves from the bow?” So off I went—the captain had given the order. Now that was something else, guys! Better than any shower. Even a fire hose. The Young Sailor Discovers Zen The next day, in calm, dry weather, our young sailor went out onto the bowsprit: “Nastya, go away, you’re disturbing me. I’m meditating.” “But I’m far away from you.” “Your aura is disturbing me.” I come out on deck, and Lada is sitting in the lotus position, her hands resting on her knees, index and middle fingers touching. “I have to write that down—the bit about the aura,” I laugh. “Your aura is disturbing me too. Move it.” And that’s the whole story. At this rate, our young sailor may yet attain enlightenment. Still, the very best thing about an ocean voyage is making landfall. And if the land looks like this—insanely beautiful—then the happiness of arriving outweighs the sadness of how difficult it is to go ashore. We’re finishing off the coconuts and apples. A fresh pumpkin awaits its fate. Keep your fingers crossed that we manage to complete the repairs (28 items on the captain’s list, including sawing out two critical heavy-duty bolts, replacing the windvane steering fasteners, and completely overhauling the watermaker). We cannot put to sea until these repairs are finished. Big greetings from the whole crew at 18 degrees south latitude! Thank you for writing such motivating comments! Incidentally, for some reason, the reports from the website have stopped posting to Facebook automatically. We’ll ask the shore team to publish the posts manually. We thank the wonderful people who are keeping the crew’s spirits up on this difficult journey via YooMoney and PayPal ᐧ