We have to start talking New Zealand now which hopefully will be easier than Spanish or French???

It's 6:30 am, still dark and we can't raise the Harbour Master in Raratonga, the Cook Islands. We're two and a bit miles off the entrance and have had to slow right down, actually, now we're going in circles. This is the first harbour in all our travels that we can't go into unless we've been allocated a Med Moor berth (stern to the dock). It's a small harbour with a lot of traffic and if we can't get in well have to just keep going to Niue or Tonga. Many yachts stayed in Bora Bora for the Bastille Day celebrations but we thought we'd get a head start on them. So here's hoping????

Another reason for not really wanting to stay for the Bastille Day celebrations was the local's penchant for biff ups after consuming a few too many beers. At one stage, we were tied alongside the quay in the main town at Bora Bora, and there had been quite a few local Polynesians talking and drinking all night right beside the yacht, after a night on celebrations and local dancing. At about 5am in the morning the talking heightened to really load yelling and an awful drunken brawl had started. I just had to get up and take a peek without them being able to see me, so I crouched down behind the dodger. About 5 huge Polynesians were trying to calm down an hysterical woman who was flaying her arms around and trying to brake free from a bear hug hold they had on her. With an almighty scream she managed to free herself and then her partner started on her. It was dreadful and at one stage I thought he was going to throw her in the water.

Two days later we went to the Gendarme to check out and we met a French TV cameraman who said he was doing a documentary on the dreadful situation of drunken brawls. Apparently there had been a huge fight the night after the one I saw. He said that the local police just haven't got the manpower to deal with these fights as the locals are so drunk and so huge that they just didn't have the strength in numbers without calling more recruits from Papeete, which is a plane or boat trip away.

Well that was long winded wasn't it and this really was the first seen but it did deter me from staying for a big night of celebrations. The Polynesians just don't know when to stop and can't hold their drink, we had been reminded numerous times when we were trading not to offer alcohol and they asked for it a number of times.

We're still waiting, so with a little times on our hands, I just had to tell you that story. Of course Greg slept through it all, as did the guy on the boat alongside of us. As he said, he had one deaf ear and that was the one he keeps away from the pillow so he'd have a good night sleep. So I had some good coffee tales to tell in the morning.

Greg finally found in one of our other cruising guides that the office of the Harbour Master didn't open till 8am, so once 8am came we heard him calling another ship that was also hovering around, so after their conversation I called. A very friendly Australian voice came on the radio saying sure no problem, just come in and tie up alongside the other yachts. Great, it appeared there was room for us.

On entering, no problem, the skipper reversed us straight in, I held the wheel while he dropped the anchor. We threw the lines ashore and we were secure. Our first Med moor landing, and we got it right first go.

Showered and changed, we jumped ashore, and were ready to explore this delightful little town. The local Saturday morning market was 3 minutes away and we wanted to get there before it closed.

Sunday morning came and of course we had to go to Church. Yes, we've become religious in French Polynesia and now in the Cook Islands, well, actually, to tell you the truth, we go for the magnificent singing. It's the best show around!!! Greg gets all excited and says hurry up, got to get to church. All the locals get dressed up in their finery, lots of lovely garlands of flowers in the hair and hats on and children all dressed up in their Sunday best.

This morning was very special as it was the first service we'd heard in English, and the Minister was a real character, had a great sense of humour and had the congregation in hysterics at times. Especially, when he did his sales pitch to the visiting overseas guests prompting us to buy their CD. Notice the powerpoint presentation in the photo gallery! Afterwards the local ladies put on a morning tea in the Sunday School room and we had a chance to hear the story of the beginning of the Cook Island Church in 1823 and talk to some of the delightful local people.

This is a very special place.