Arrival in Tuvalu November 8 (Written from Majuro August 2106) Position 31.491s 179 11.376e "Dolphins!" I cried. They danced around us as if saying "Welcome to Tuvalu, well done, you made it." We easily traversed the comfortably wide reef-entrance into the waters of Funafuti, Tuvalu's main atoll. After crossing the unfettered lagoon, no hull snagging coral bombies lurking just below the surface, we dropped anchor behind two other yachts already settled off the town of Fongafale. We easily fell into our arrival routine and dusk fell quickly as it does close to the equator. David had already raised the Tuvaluan flag and Kailopa was cleaning the barracuda we'd caught in the pass. With Navire safely secured to the seabed I slid into the water and rinsed off several days of sweat. *** "Eight hours sleep in a row," David declared as we fell into bed at 8pm. But sure enough at 2.30am we woke to heavy rain. We leapt out of bed excitedly. One of our logistical concerns about this trip north was whether or not we'd get enough fresh water in Tuvalu to see us through the 1000 trip to Majuro. In the cockpit by the light of our head-torches we were a finely tuned machine. Buckets out, hoses up. The four 10 litre buckets filled in minutes, and the showers, and every available pot and bowl, our naked bodies illuminated momentarily by the lightning that blasted the sky. Unfortunately the rain filled the dinghy too which we'd left tied off the back, so I bailed it, and hoisted it off the side, taking the bung out to prevent it filling again. It was hard to get back to sleep and I'd finally dozed off when it was time to get up and listen to the weather forecast. We were very interested in monitoring the low-pressure system nearby that must have been responsible for all the rain we collected. I also kept an eye on a band of clouds lurking near the equator east of us, that area being a potential cyclone spawning ground. *** The next morning we cleaned up the boat in case customs and immigration wanted to come out to clear us in. "There is no way they are coming in out here in our dinghy," said David. Its quite small and tippy, and adult Tuvaluan men can be quite large. We erected shade cloth over the boom to attempt to get some reduction in temperature. Twenty eight degrees and 82% humidity. (Ha! Luxury, I think now as I write here in Majuro in 32 degrees) *** Excerpt from David email: I write this in Tuvalu with droplets of sweat running freely down my arms and gathering on my upper lip. And this is with the weather overcast and drizzling. On a sunny day my shirt is constantly wet through. But somehow it's not unbearable.=20 Funafuti is not the tawdry, litter-strewn town I had been led to expect. The place is thick with mopeds ridden by all - large mothers, infant in one arm, throttle in the other, pillions balanced side saddle or holding a tuna by the tail, drivers balancing ladders, suitcases, umbrellas in the rain, trays of food. The place is overwhelmingly friendly, lush and green, with a vibrant energy in the air. And, thankfully, lots of rain this season. But best of all Kailopa is related to half the population here. We have been swept up in their enthusiastic welcome and some of the awe with which they regard him for having found his way aboard a Palangi vessel and crossed the hazardous open ocean. I expected Tuvalu to be friendly. We, of course, had doors flung wide by delivering Kailopa, one of their own. There was much anticipation and anxiety about his arrival. We stayed in Rotuma nearly a week which they had not understood (Kailopa had hoped to keep his visit a secret but his village in Fiji let it out). So there were frequent scans for yacht arrivals and some were asked if Kailopa was aboard. His nephew was on the dock as we came ashore. The usual round of tedious bureaucratic arrival formalities became a round of family reunions.=20 Kailopa's feat of getting aboard a Palangi yacht and crossing hazardous ocean at his advanced age, just 67, has given him a kind of celebrity status. It's 10pm and still I perspire. I carry a facecloth everywhere to wipe off the rivulets. I seem not to mind the heat but droplets on my glasses, in my eyes, running down my arms, dripping off my nose, that's uncomfortable. *** Janet Fongafale, the main atoll of Tuvalu, is a long narrow island barely extending beyond the road in places. As Kailopa's nephew Edmoni was driving us to the customs office we came to an area of raised sand, reclaimed land, about 1.5 metres high. "This is a New Zealand project," Edmoni told us. "The tides were eroding this area and no one could build here." I'd noticed many houses built up on poles. The ugly spectre of global warming lurks here. We stopped and met Jonathon, Edmoni's dad, going the other way on a step through scooter. At customs one of the two men in the office was Kailopa's cousin Telito. We didn't have a form from Fiji, no problem, health forms to hand in, leave it with me. All done. The easiest clearing in we've ever had. Edmoni drove us back towards the dinghy dock and dropped us at a house where two young women were delighted to see Kailopa. We went in to what was a Jehovah's Witness house and met another nephew Jona and his wife Sue, then Joseph, a grandson. They invited us for dinner. I felt warmly welcomed. We were in Kailopa's hands now. Back at the boat we had a swim, then a drink on Exodus and swapped passage stories, before heading back into town to the mission house. We sat and chatted with the family. No food in sight. We told them our plan to hire a motorbike and explore the island and that we have one in New Zealand. "Okay we go now," said Sue gathering up her handbag. We all trooped downstairs and outside to where a phalanx of motorbikes were parked. Jona handed us a key. We had our own bike! He showed David how to operate the lights and gears. Our two-wheeled convoy wended its way through the balmy evening air. David couldn't get the bike to change down a gear but we soon learnt that you just do everything in third. The bikes in front turned into the yard of a large house with dozens of people milling around. We were at a funeral feast! No one seemed at all concerned that we didn't know the deceased's family. We were invited to sit in an almost empty room on a mat. Gradually other people wandered in and sat on the floor. It dawned on us that this was the "old people's" room. Other people, the younger ones, scurried around with large platters of food. One of which held two roasted whole pigs. We were interlopers but because we were Palangi visitors we were invited to help ourselves to the food laid out on the table first. My mouth was watering. Chunks of pork fell off the golden baked carcass onto my plate, then I loaded up from platters of various beef stir fries, cassava, and dalo (taro). *** Nov 10 Spent the morning cleaning up boat while David fixed various leaks made apparent by the heavy downpours. As always almost the first thing we seek out on landing is internet but here its hard to connect, expensive and super slow. Just buy a card at the store and enter the password we were told. An outrageous $10Aus for 250MB. We bought the card but couldn't get a connection. We headed to the Telecom office. It was like the Post Office in New Zealand in the 1970's. A rough hand painted sign graced the door. It was immediately evident that the woman behind the desk was not a techo, in fact there was not even a computer in sight. She didn't know anything about internet problems and after trying to go through obvious stuff regardless of what David told her, eventually directed us to another Telecom building. We walked two blocks. The girl at 'security' box told us "No one there, all gone, back later". David grilled her to no effect. I abandoned David at the government office, went back to first Telecom office and explained that there was no one at Telecom base. She called them and said, "line busy, so must be someone there." Back to Telecom base. "Oh yes," said the girl in the security box, "someone there." Thank god David wasn't there, it wouldn't have been pretty. Inside a large shed a young man said yes, he could help David. Back to government building and sent David back to do battle. A job that would have been dealt with in five minutes in New Zealand. *** Nov 11 The Fleet I sat at the dock waiting for David to collect me. It was so hot I just walked into the sea fully clothed to cool down. The water was not cool but the breeze now wicked heat away from my body. I could see eight yachts anchored off the town. One was heading south, the rest for Majuro, and there were a couple more to arrive yet. Quite a fleet. We would see a lot of each other over the next few months. For some time I'd harboured a dream of having a community in Majuro, in the Marshall Islands, our final destination for this leg of our trip. I was excited about seeing the same people for more than a day or two instead of fleeting connections before our new acquaintances sailed off to another bay or even a different country. In my dream I had a cooking club and a writers group, and regular people to play music with, three of my favourite activities from life in Wellington. Well the community was happening now! In Tuvalu. Deanne from Exodus suggested we set up a daily radio sched for the passage to Majuro. At 0800 each morning we would all tune in to frequency 8173 and report in with our positions, how many fish we'd caught, distance covered, weather conditions and how we were faring. It became one of the highlights of the day once we were underway.=20 True Blue V, an Aussie boat arrived at dusk. Our fleet was nine strong. Meanwhile we waited to see how a nasty looking low developed. It promised up to 40 knots of wind by end of the week. But for now there was little wind and it was bloody hot. *** Nov 12, Janet journal Really hot today, trundling my trolley of groceries through town, sweat pouring down my back. No taxis in this town. Spent the morning at customs trying to negotiate outer island visits. Shopping done I settled in at the Filomena 'hotel' overlooking the runway to get internet. Suddenly the fire engine appeared and sounded its siren. Then everyone from the hotel moved next door to the airport, the twice-weekly flight was coming in, a much anticipated event. I gave up on trying to connect and had lunch and cold beers with some of the fleet. Sleepy after the lunchtime drinking we had a quiet night at home collecting buckets of rainwater in passing squalls. Still no sign of wind to take us north and out of the hurricane zone, so we waited. I put the last of the old potatoes from Fiji in the oven and made barracuda lolo, using Kailopa's coconut cream, tinned cherry tomatoes, garlic, last of the fresh coconut cream, and red onion. Fry the fish then put it in lolo. Yum. *** The boat was infested with bugs that were eating me. I didn't know what they were and they were keeping me up at night with insanely intense itching. Hopefully they would disappear when we left the land. However it looked like we would be in Tuvalu for at least another week. There was very little wind predicted and what there was would come from the north. We fully expected to spend time wallowing out there on the ocean but we wanted to pick at least a zephyr of easterly to leave with. Well we got the Easterly but it was a bit more than a zephyr. =20 =20 =20 Tuvalu 1