We loved our visit to The Island of Pines, or as it's officially known, Ill des Pins. Or phonetically... Eel day Pa. Or maybe Eel day Pawn with the French pronunciation of the letter "N". English speakers say "N" with the tongue on front roof of the mouth (say NNNNNN...) but French speakers seem to swallow the "N" at the back of the throat, rendering it almost invisible to the English speaking ear and is not a sound made in spoken English - a detail our resident Frenchman onboard Double Diamond, Francois Bonneau, (lovingly referred to by us as Frank Goodwater - which he hates) has been teaching us about French.
Yet Francois (say France-wah and NOT France-wahs - that's a woman's name) readily admits that his French pronunciation is not classic Parisian. His home is in the southern French city of Toulouse where his last occupation was as an avionics engineer working on Airbus jets. Which, of course, makes him the enemy if you are from Seattle where Boeing puts a lot of meals on local dinner plates. We're well over that, however, and have thoroughly enjoyed having a native French speaker on board even if his Toulouse accent is all messed up, French-wise. Actually, he claims that his recent years of speaking English are messing with his French pronunciation. I believe him.
Although we have known Francois since we were sailing back in Mexico, he was first on board Double Diamond as crew in Fiji and we met up with him again in Noumea (say Newmayuh), New Caledonia. You see, Francois has spent the last two years as a hitchhiker of sorts. Starting out in Mexico, he has pretty much hitchhiked across the Pacific aboard other boats, several of which we know and he is now ending his adventure with us on his final leg, this one to Australia. Except for a short flight from Vanuatu to New Caledonia, he has made the entire crossing as an ocean hitchhiker.
The great thing about Frank, uh, Francois (excuse my French) is that in addition to being a free-spirited people-person, he's also a hard worker and has taken over the task of Chief Dishwasher (which I personally appreciate). He also has no problem with the working end of a stainless steel polishing rag, except for scheduled coffee breaks, which he insists is his right as a French citizen as is his right to go on strike if said coffee breaks are not provided. He's kidding of course, but if you know French culture, you understand the joke.
The engineer in him makes him a fast learner on the technical sailing stuff of which lord knows, there is plenty of technical stuff to learn on board an ocean-equipped sailing vessel. In many ways, he has eclipsed all his instructors in this regard and has certainly shown me a thing or two.
But this story started out about Ill Des Pins, right? (And you are now pronouncing it correctly, right? If not, please refer to paragraph one.)
After getting Francois ensconced on board Double D, we provisioned the boat for the trip to Australia between bouts of French pastry binge eating. (Please refer to the book "Grain Brain" for more details on the ill (not eel) effects of this diet.) Our hope was to provision and then sail about 70 miles out to Ill Des Pins (say it right!), but the complication with that plan is that there are no customs officials on that island and legally speaking, checking out of the country has to be done in Noumea (say Newmayuh, please). Which would mean sailing back to Noumea after visiting Ill Des Pins and then leaving for Australia from there. The problem? Going back to Noumea is not really in the direction of Australia. Kind of, but not really.
Cue our French speaking crewmate.
During the checkout procedures, which involved bicycling around town to several offices (Customs, Immigration, Harbor Master), it was imperative that Francois accompany us as he needed to be added to the official crew-list, exit documents, etc. and have his Passport stamped. While sitting with the Customs official (who spoke only halting English), we asked if it was possible to leave New Caledonia via Ill Des Pins. He said no, not unless we submitted a written request several weeks in advance. To which (I later learned outside the door) Francois said to him (all in French) "Really, it takes that long? These are both pretty nice people whom I've known for quite some time and they've never been here before. Are you sure?" The official looked us over, pulled a form out of a cabinet, signed and stamped it, giving us 72 hours in Ille Des Pins before exiting the country without having to return to Noumea.
Good work, Francois. You just earned a free sailing trip to Australia. Mate.
But about Ill Des Pins. It was lovely and Francois, who spent almost a month on the main island of New Caledonia, feels this island was by far the most picturesque. We were able to get our bikes out and do some cycling, but for a complete circumnavigation we rented scooters, draping duffle bags full of snorkel gear across our feet for our day-long, around-the-island road trip.
Our goal with the snorkel gear was to swim in what is called la piscine naturelle - the natural pool. Although somewhat mobbed by tourists - even without a cruise ship anchored in the bay - it was still a worthwhile adventure to find and go for a swim in this huge, but calm saltwater pool fed by an incoming stream from the ocean. Luckily, we arrived there before the crowds and had the place to ourselves for a while.
To top the afternoon off, we found a lovely resort, Le Meridian, for lunch after our swim. We could happily stay there for a full week as we've not seen a South Pacific resort with a lovelier and more interesting setting. We did not, however, check on the room rates. My guess is that we might then have to revise our length of stay - downward. Lunch for 3 was $90, but quite elegant - if burgers and sandwiches can be such a thing - which they were.
Other than Le Meridian, the island is very, very rural making us glad we had resupplied in Noumea, but the views were tremendous, the scenery completely different from anything we'd so far seen in the Pacific and the anchorage (Baie Kuto) was large, calm, with good sand holding in 15-25 feet of water and full of turtles and their companion Remoras. We'd go back.