Travel Reference
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drums; bare heels added a heartfelt thump that could be felt in the pit of one's stomach. The
dancing was fast and pacey and ever so risqué. My goodness, that would not be allowed
in western dance halls, that's for sure. The youngsters bumped and ground their sweating
young bodies into an absolute, frenzied blur. The audience thrilled to this and clapped and
egged them on. It was terribly exciting and uninhibited.
Then the unimaginable happened! The dancing girls came over suddenly and each took
one of the white men's hands. I was hoisted to my feet by some luscious, young lovely and
dragged, kicking and screaming, to the center of the dust-hued floor. The locals went crazy
and screamed in laughter and good spirits as we whiteys attempted to copy their sexy scis-
sor dance. It was impossible to follow, and we made absolute asses of ourselves, but wait!
It was now the young, local men dragging up the white women, who moments before had
been hooting at our misfortunes. They were equally pathetic and raised howls and more
laughter from the local villagers.
In the end, it did not matter, as soon the entire square was full of dancing bodies. There
was not a square inch to spare as the ground beneath our feet thundered and shook to the
hypnotic sounds of the drums in the night! It was a remarkable coincidence that I happened
to be leaving the following day, and what a send off! This was to be my last island before
returning to Hawaii. It was the climax to my single-hand cruise, and I thank Poseidon for
the terrific ending and early equator crossing party!
By the time I had said my goodbyes to my sweet Penrhyn family and Lynne and Terry and
the others and had cleared customs, there were several new yachts nosing to their anchors
along the calm lagoon shore. I felt like a stranger again, and I puttered quietly out of the
pass and out to sea. I have seen big, fanfare goodbyes turn to dust or disaster and much
prefer to steal away unnoticed.
It was swelteringly hot that day with a slight northerly breeze, just enough to make believe
I was sailing. I had to remain at the helm after clearing the west passage, as there was not
enough wind for the self-steerer to work. The several drinking nuts that Faali had thought-
fully brought down to the boat rolled about in the lazarette locker. He had also supplied a
few coconuts that had just started to leaf. When one opened these up, you found the coconut
meat had turned into a sweet floury treat: I named it Polynesian pudding. I had promised
the boys that when I returned to Hawaii, I would send them all my old guitar strings to the
post office, and they would distribute them around. I left Faali with several tools I knew I
could get back in Hawaii: a handsaw, drills, even a hammer that was an extra I had.
23
rd
October: I have done all of sixty miles since yesterday this time. It could be worse. I
am tired already and want this trip over. I still have to cross the equator and deal with the
calms associated with the inter tropical convergence zone, or ITCZ. I feel lazy and lethar-
