The Gambier Archipelago: Part 4

Chapter 12: Foiling & Fixing

I swore I would never do it. It was too dangerous, and I was too old.

But then Carine did it—so, of course, I had to try.

I didn’t enjoy being launched out of the water, only to come crashing back down with a stinging smack. My back ached, the saltwater burned my nose, my eyes watered, and my leg took a hit. Yet, for reasons I couldn’t quite explain, it was fun. Maybe I just enjoyed watching Iain, Brioni, Bruce, Carine, and Gary flail through the air in the same awkward desperation. It was adult mayhem—limbs flung in every direction, bodies twisting in futile attempts to stay upright.

How do you actually ride a foil board? Only Michael knows.

That’s why he wasn’t too sore to fix the boat while I tended to my bruises. Because, as it turns out, it’s not all sunsets and swimming. Someone has to install the new instrument panel, repair the radar, patch the gel coat, fix the autopilot, troubleshoot the water maker, and replace the horn.

Now that he’s done, only one deck light remains out. But we’ve got two.

So, Gerty is ready for the voyage west.

Chapter 13: Shopping for Pearls

The pearl man works in the mornings and afternoons, but his hours and days are unpredictable. The first and third times I went, he wasn’t there. The second time, he wasn’t in the mood to sell pearls.

The fourth time, I brought a book for his two-year-old niece, Bonne Nuit Lune, Good Night, Moon.

He showed me loose pearls of various sizes, textures, and colors. As I examined them, sweat trickled down my legs, and dengue-carrying mosquitoes nibbled at my ankles. It took me forever to choose the ones I wanted.

I told him I had sons, and he showed me intricately carved pearls threaded onto leather strands. I picked two.

Then, he directed me to the bank. En espèces seulement. Cash only.

Chapter 14: Sondrine, La Boulangèree

Sondrine bakes a limited number of baguettes Monday through Saturday, and they typically sell out by 7:00 a.m. I don’t know why she baked a second batch yesterday afternoon, still warm to the touch when we passed by, but it felt serendipitous. We picked four from the pile.

Je voudrais quinze œufs, aussi. I would like fifteen eggs, too, I said, adding, Nous quittons les Gambier demain et je veux vous dire merci beaucoup pour vos baguettes. We are leaving the Gambier tomorrow, and I want to say thank you very much for your baguettes.

What happened next only makes sense if you’ve been to Gambier.

Attendez! Wait! she called out to us. Avez-vous un congélateur sur votre bateau? Je veux te donner quelque chose.

After asking her to repeat and speak slowly, I understood and translated for Michael. She wanted to know if we had a freezer on our boat. She wanted to give us something.

He smiled widely, not knowing what her gift would be, and said, Oui, merci!

Then, Sondrine opened an enormous freezer and—voilà! She handed us a 5lb bag of oysters.

Mange! she said, raising her hand to her mouth to show us the shelled, cleaned meat was ready to eat.

Michael grinned again, reminding me that they were fresh from the pearl farm and tasted like clams.

Combien coûte? How much, I asked?

Sondrine waved her hands wildly in my face. Non, non, she said, c’est un cadeau de ma part. Bon voyage à toi.

No, no, she said, they are a gift from me. Have a good trip.

I gave her a sweaty hug, and we were on our way.

Last Remarks 

The best thing about Gambier is that it’s remote, so sailors tend to stay for a while. This gave us the time to make long-lasting friendships. Thank you for sharing it all—Bruse & Carine SV Noxoma, Patty & Gary SV Earendil, Iain & Brioni SV Indioko, David & Sam SV Boundless, Paula SV Estrella, Daniella & Ralf SV Yello, Chris & Beatta SV Halley, Brigitta & Hanes SV Maria Noa, Juliette, Jean & Capucine SV Duodecim, Rolf & Volf SV Boaty McBoatface, and many more. We hope to see you all again soon.